


The Legend of Sparrow Jones, Book 1, Part 2: In which Sparrow Takes the First Step

by Chord



Series: The Legend of Sparrow Jones [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dystopia, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Falling In Love, For Science!, Friendship/Love, Girls Kissing, Global Warming, Hogwarts, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Multi, Near Future, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Nuclear War, Statute of Secrecy (Harry Potter), Teen Romance, Underage Kissing, Wizarding World (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28853946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chord/pseuds/Chord
Summary: in the second half of her school year, Sparrow must embark on a course of extreme illegality, precisely because it is so difficult and so dangerous that nobody is watching from that direction. Who would bother to monitor the minefield?With her she brings her friends, including someone she had never expected to call a friend. There is much to discuss, and some delicate matters to resolve between her and those she loves. In saving the world, there are critical questions of strategy to decide, and many painful histories to take into account.And there is the possibility that the majority of the world will object to her goal, whereupon Sparrow must give it up. She has chosen democracy, and though it be the most difficult choice, it is also the only true one. And becoming an animagus is the only way to survey the masses discreetly. So Sparrow and her friends embark on this course of extreme illegality for the sake of democracy.Which is to say: they will risk their lives for the sake of love.
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character/Original Character
Series: The Legend of Sparrow Jones [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050227
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. The Plan

The train ride was again uneventful. Even Violet did not visit her compartment. The landscape of grey mud and rain slid by. What color there was in the world, well – there might be some colorful sparks flying when she got back to Hogwarts. Thus far she had received odd looks from the people she passed on the train, and the sound of people hastily shutting each other up when she walked by. No sparks yet.

She had hoped that Jocasta might be on the train this time, instead of coming in her father's flying coach. But if she was on the train there was no sign of her. Sparrow wondered if the girl would even be willing to speak with her when they met again.

…

The answer was no. In the week that followed Sparrow’s re-arrival at the castle the Carrow girl never spoke to her once nor communicated any desire to do so. She tended to leave halls that Sparrow entered, along with other students who, in their muttered conversation, made it clear that they would not be seen in the company of a madwoman.

Nor did any of the students speak to her of any matter that was not academic. It was not exactly the silent treatment, but the message was clear anyway.

As for the administrators, their message was less than clear. None of them expressed their open support, not even Professor Budge – yet none of them expressed any open denial.

Except Hagrid.

"Technically I didn't break my promise," said Sparrow, as she poked one of the Flobberworms.

"Sounds to me like you knew you were exploiting a loophole," said Hagrid.

"I thought McGonagall's office was safe!" Sparrow closed the lid on the compost box. "I just got carried away, you know? I forgot that the portraits were gossips."

Hagrid said not a word as he sat down on a stump. Nor did he look nearly as angry as Sparrow had expected. There was a bit of a twinkle in his eye.

"Are you mad at me?" said Sparrow. "Is this why you're keeping me after class? Is this a tiny little detention?"

"Nah," said Hagrid. "I'm just thinking you're a bit like me after all."

"I'm a fair bit shorter than you," said Sparrow. "And skinnier."

Hagrid chuckled. "Not what I mean, lass. I mean, it seems like there's nothing that can keep you quiet for long."

"How is that like you?"

"Ah well." Hagrid nodded to his umbrella. "Let's say being expelled didn't keep me from doing magic forever. As for you – why, I bet if you were expelled, you'd just go out into the world and do magic without a wand!"

"You're really not mad at me?"

"Well, you were speaking in confidence, weren't you? Foolish enough to think that a bunch of portraits wouldn't blab. But McGonagall told me that every portrait of a headmaster is sworn to secrecy about what they hear in her office."

"But all the other portraits crowded in as well."

"Exactly," said Hagrid. "Bit of a security oversight there. McGonagall's fault, not yours. So _technically_ you're not to blame for causing a ruckus. Like I said. Loopholes and accidents and a government that only thinks it has a handle on you. You're a girl after my own heart."

"I call that a marvelous compliment," said Sparrow. "Although I'm still kind of mad at you for dragging me into the Forbidden Forest."

"I can’t blame you for that."

"And I've been thinking about what you said about moving the world around like a chessboard. What if I just…ask people what they want? And then if they don't want it, I don't do it."

"You mean you'd turn it into a vote?"

"Better than bestriding the world like a tyrant, right?"

"Heh. Well." Hagrid leaned forward and looked Sparrow in the eye. "If the vote comes up on the side of no, are you ready to accept that answer?"

"I…don't really know."

"Then it might be dangerous to ask," said Hagrid. "You shouldn't ask a question like that if you can't handle a negative answer. So – at this point, I'd say wait until you're ready."

"You kind of sound like you approve of my ambitions after all," said Sparrow.

"Nope," said Hagrid. "I'm voting no."

Sparrow pouted.

"But that's my vote," said Hagrid, "and it's one vote and no more. Aw, don't give me those puppy-dog eyes."

"That's a perfectly legitimate way to campaign," said Sparrow.

"I told you not to start the campaign until you're ready!"

"You cast your vote," said Sparrow. "I'd say it's begun."

"I shouldn't have voted," said Hagrid. "I should not have voted."

Sparrow traipsed back to the castle in higher spirits than before.

…

The other adult who expressed open approval of her goals was Professor Slughorn, who, being quite the Slytherin, felt it invigorating that someone had ambitions beyond what even he dreamed of. "Give it a shot," he said. "I would love to see what you could come up with." But he said little more to her, not even offering to invite her to the Slug Club.

So Slughorn wasn’t directly useful. But. Nobody in the school administration was stopping him from expressing his open support. Nor were they attempting to stop her. Either the Ministry was still preparing to send a Howler to the Headmistress’ office, or McGonogall was making good on her tacit offer of support. That was promising.

The other one who showed interest in her goal was Tim, the Librarian.

"Finally lost interest in that werewolf business," said Tim, "and thank goodness. I can try to help you find what information you’re looking for."

Sparrow judiciously neglected to tell Tim that she hadn’t forgotten the werewolf matter completely. It would be better to have him on her side.

And so Sparrow spent her days in the library, reading of the beginnings of magic itself, or its supposed beginnings, with stories like the man who summoned a giant patronus. Useless, really. Even the earliest texts had wizards acting as the stuck-up prats they always were. If history wouldn’t help, then perhaps the magical equivalent of Physics would. There was, or had been such a section, on experimental charms. Where had all the books gone?

Ted regretfully informed her that most of those texts had been removed to the Ministry. He practically snarled when he said it.

Oh, yes, of course. Violet had pitched a very loud fit about something involving the Ministry in their second year of school. Sparrow had been afraid to ask Violet what she had been on about. This must have been it.

She shifted her focus to the advanced potions section. There were a few books in the library that Zygmunt Budge had made good use of, back in his day. Ted would only let her read them by carefully flipping the pages for her, with magic. Here was a dissertation on the effect of moonlight in healing potions. There was a study of how vigorously and how long to stir a cauldron. All empirical business, none theoretical. Where was the theoretical material for potions?

Also removed to the Ministry.

This did not make the Ministry look any better than it already did.

And where was the book of bibliographic references for Granger’s Advanced Potions? Still missing. And Tim would not tell her who had it out. He had his professional standards to maintain.

One January morning, Sparrow had her head down on the table in frustration. She had spent the better part of an hour trying to get through an extremely dry treatise on Silverbeetle Shell powder, hoping to glean something from it about the basic nature of potion craft. She now had a headache.

Someone grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away from the table, and into the secret alcove behind the bust of Saint Snerd.

It was, of all people, Jocasta Carrow.

Who proceeded to pin Sparrow against a wall and get right up in her face.

"This is very rude," said Sparrow. "Uncouth. Discourteous."

"Don’t you dare," said Jocasta, shoving Sparrow a bit harder against the wall. "Don’t you dare get cute with me after you threaten to destroy my world."

"Aren’t I already cute?"

"Well yeah but…shut up." Jocasta’s face got noticeably pinker.

"I’m not trying to destroy your world," said Sparrow. "I’m just – "

"Shut up! Just – shut! Up! " Jocasta put her face even closer. "And let me show you what you’re going to lose."

"I don’t understand what you’re – mmph!" Sparrow’s words were cut off as Jocasta kissed her hard on the mouth.

When she was at last released from the kiss, Sparrow said, "I have half a mind to call that sexual assault. This is how you think it's okay to come on to me? What the hell are you playing at?"

"I – I – " Jocasta blushed. "God, that was stupid. I’m sorry." She released Sparrow and leaned against the far wall, letting out a long breath.

"Have you got that out of your system then?"

"No!" Jocasta glared at Sparrow. "I’m still mad at you because of your mad ambition! I like the fact that you’re ambitious but this is a real threat, Sparrow."

"I’m just trying to open our world up, that’s all. Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes!" Jocasta threw up her hands. "It’s not supposed to be opened! Opening it will destroy it!"

"Oh no? What exactly does it mean, that your world can’t stand up to openness?"

"It means it’s too small and too fragile to have everyone come barging in at once," said Jocasta.

"What," said Sparrow, "is the Wizarding World like a pub that only ever caters to local loyal customers, so a bunch of tourists at once would put a severe strain on the employees?"

"Like a – yes, let’s go with that. Only this pub? Has wine glasses that bite you and random trapdoors, and someone in the back room performing human sacrifices."

"How do you – "

"Hello?" said Jocasta, waving her hands in front of her. "My last name’s Carrow? I’m a Slytherin? Got the green-trimmed robes and everything? Girl, there’s things in my father’s house, there’s things in any Pureblood manor, there’s things in my _common room_ that would try to obliterate you if they knew what you were up to. Salazar’s legacy doesn’t stop with the Chamber of Secrets."

"So what," said Sparrow, "did you want a taste of me before I was vaporized? Is that what this is?"

"This is desperation," said Jocasta. "I had hoped that if you had a taste of _me_ then you might think twice about going off kaboom."

"I think I did that before the break," said Sparrow. "I’m kind of waiting for the first howler to arrive."

"How can you be so flippant about this!"

"I’m just glad to have you in my presence again. I wanted to talk to you about a few things. Like our shared goal." She wiggled her eyebrows. "I wanted to get started on that."

"You – ugh!" Jocasta crossed her arms. "I am hardly in the mood to discuss that at the moment. I’m still mad at you."

"Mad because I’m a threat? Or mad because you might lose me? Because it sounds to me like you’re more concerned about the latter. I’ve had the feeling for a while that you care about me a lot more than you would for an adversary. Or even a student. I think you care _for_ me. Am I correct?"

"Don’t get all romantic on me, girl."

"You’re the one who kissed me!"

"I mean like storybook romance. Immature romance. That kind of nonsense."

"Shoving someone up against a wall and kissing them is very much storybook immature nonsense romance! And now you’re telling me you’re not into that? Give me a clear answer here. Do you fancy me or not?"

"I…"

"Because I sure fancy you. I like you."

"You...like me. My my my, this is quite the turnaround, dear adversary. Why on earth would you – "

"Think of it this way," said Sparrow. "I'm everybody's annoying little guardian spirit, right?"

"Practically usurping the prefects," said Jocasta.

"Right. And then _you_ come along. Being annoying. Being spicy. Being _wicked._ Challenging me to become a better Wizard, in your own way. I think you would make a good Defensive Arts teacher, if and when Professor Budge is gone. You sure are slippery when it comes to Wizard duels."

Jocasta's eyes grew wide, and she grinned.

"What?"

Jocasta shook her head. "Nothing. Too easy. Anyway – "

"So Jill and I are a matched set when it comes to magical skills because I have the shield and she has the spear. I think you and I could be a matching set when it comes to our approaches to authority. Good student bad student, you know?"

"Oh," said Jocasta. "I'm supposed to look bad, and you angelic in comparison?"

"Um – "

"I did tell you to avoid letting me go down a dark road."

"Well – "

"And I am not proud of my own cynicism, so if that's what attracts you to me then you can very well forget it."

"Cynicism?" said Sparrow. "Recall that you agreed to help me out with this Animagus business knowing precisely what I would use it for."

"I had the vague notion that you might use it as one tool in your apparent quest to bring down the government," said Jocasta. "Not that I fully understood the basics of your ambitions until you shot your mouth off in the headmistress' office. I would appreciate understanding your methodology, though."

"Does that mean you're not entirely opposed to my quest?"

"I…don't know."

"Because depending on why you want to help me, you sound like you're edging towards idealism in a sarcastic and outwardly cynical manner. Why do you? What's in this for you, besides helping me achieve a lofty goal?"

"Revenge," said Jocasta. "Let's just say the Ministry of Magic utterly failed me and people I care about, and leave it at that for now. I do not trust my own motivations here. I don't even fully trust you! You who are so damn noble, so idealistic, you might just rip the roof off my world because you think it's better for everyone without asking them – "

"I'm trying to ask them!" said Sparrow.

"How?"

"You gave me the tool. Or you will. You gave me the idea. If there's only one way I can skulk around without people being able to sniff me out, it's the incredibly dangerous path you showed me. I'm taking it and you're helping me. You get it? I have the chance to pull off something idealistic for once because of you! So don't go telling yourself that you're going down a dark road." For a moment, her world went golden. "Take the damn blindfold off and see the sunlight."

Jocasta backed up a step, looking disturbed. "I'm…seeing it right now."

The golden tint faded, leaving a blue afterimage on Sparrow's sight. "So am I," she said. "That's why I say wicked and not evil. You're disobedient to good ends. We all need that. I need that. So I need you."

"And you also…want me?"

Sparrow nodded. "You've kind of been joking around about being interested in me all year, and then I started to fancy you back when you went out of your way to tell me Violet was waiting for me, so…if we are good for each other and we actually like each other, why hesitate?"

"Because I don't want to get between you and Jill, among other reasons. Even if you're not dating right now I know it will happen again soon enough."

"Hey, maybe both of us want you to be between us."

Jocasta raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"And I'm not stingy with my affection anyway."

Jocasta raised the other eyebrow. "Exc _use_ me?"

"I mean…I want to be less stingy with my affection these days."

Jocasta lowered her eyebrows. "That sounds more characteristic. Although you did speak of potential lovers in the plural. You were not implying that they would be one at a time, then?"

Sparrow shook her head.

"Interesting," said Jocasta. "I suppose that explains a lot. And you are apparently able to make suggestive comments."

"I what?" said Sparrow. "When did I – oh. Whoops. Not what I meant."

"How on earth did you not know – oh." Jocasta put her face in her hand. "It seems I am the prospective paramour of a prude after all."

"I'm not trying to be – "

"You are inexperienced," said Jocasta, "and you have towering ambitions. I should not be surprised that you have always been distracted from the sorts of things us _mortals_ get up to. But even Zeus knew how to get his rocks off. Please tell me you've kissed Jill at least once?"

"Once," said Sparrow. "And then we were all hands and no kisses, and then everything came to a screeching halt."

"So you are not totally inexperienced." Jocasta smirked, and a wicked gleam came to her eyes. "Do you want me to help you understand that business a bit better?"

"Will it take too much time? We both have class in ten minutes."

Jocasta turned to the wall and thumped her head repeatedly.

"Jocasta come on! That's a perfectly valid issue to point out!"

"I'm getting the sense that you're not interested," said Jocasta.

"I didn't say that, did I?"

"You're being evasive. If you're not interested then it doesn't work."

"That’s pretty rich coming from you, miss pin-people-to-the-wall. And haven’t I been flirtatious enough this year? Haven’t I already expressed my interest in you? I’m just having trouble saying it in the way you want me to. I know how to say it my way but your way is -- goddammit. Kiss me again, please."

Jocasta spun around and planted a kiss on Sparrow’s lips, then let go. "So you do like this after all."

"Of course," said Sparrow. "Far more so when you don’t _ambush me_ with the whole business. And I think this kind of relationship has the potential to strengthen our working partnership – "

"You’re making it sound like a business deal."

"You said no romance!"

"No foolish romance. No soppy stuff. But there’s still such a thing as having fun, isn’t there?"

Sparrow huffed. "Fine. But we can’t let it get out of hand. Not if it gets in the way of our shared goal. Because that was why we got talking in the first place, right? No sense forgetting that. So no stupid romance stuff. No pining, no jealousy, no love songs, none of that. And no love poems."

Jocasta grinned. "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art – "

"No! No! Bad girl!"

"Ooh, getting kinky. I like it."

"None of that either!"

"Yes mistress."

"Stop that or I’ll get my whip."

"Oh, _now_ you know how to play around. I should wonder if Jill does as well. Although…I am concerned that Jill will not wish me to come between you two after all. Have you picked up any hints that she would be receptive to taking me on?"

"I will say that she does seem flustered by your presence," said Sparrow. "And that she actually trusts you."

"Do you have any idea if she would feel forced to choose between us?"

"Um – "

"At the very least, tell her what we're up to, alright? She deserves to know."

"I know. But…what exactly are we up to?"

"Well." Jocasta grinned. "I do not want my favorite dueling partner to endure an awkward and sloppy experience from an inexperienced prude. And, to answer your question – " She brought her face close to Sparrow's. "I _do_ fancy you. You are, in fact, quite cute."

Sparrow giggled. "I am well aware."

"So I will teach you the ways of lovers – "

"Like how to wine and dine her and stuff? I already know how to dance, that's no trouble."

A wicked gleam came to Jocasta's eyes. She grinned. "That is not the curriculum I was referring to."

"Oh," said Sparrow. "Ah ha. Ahem."

"When you date Jill again," said Jocasta, "if perchance she decrees that you must leave me, then you will at least know how to please her, and that will be my gift to both of you. If you should date us both, then the lessons may continue. And if I should perchance date both of you…" She wiggled her eyebrows. "But what I care most about is making sure you do not mess up with your one true love."

"Jill is my best friend," said Sparrow. "Not my one true love. I don't like the idea of One True Love. I would like to think I could have more than one. No sense being stingy."

"But do you like my offer?"

"I do."

"And you are fully committed to becoming an Animagus?"

Sparrow nodded.

"Well then," said Jocasta. "There's only one way to seal this deal." She tapped her lips.

Sparrow kissed her back, at last, long and hard.

...

Jocasta had said no romance. Sparrow had said no romance. But there are some things about human relationships that are hard to avoid, and that few really try to avoid at all, for it is the rare and strange few that actively try to avoid feeling happy about a new intimate relationship. Sparrow tried to remain stern and businesslike for a few days, then gave in and allowed herself to feel like she was floating.

Fortunate she was, for it allowed her to blithely ignore the angry stares of her classmates.

Jill’s angry stare was not something she could ignore.

Unfortunately Jill was not giving her a chance to figure out what it meant, because the girl was stomping out of the Hufflepuff common room without a word. Sparrow elected to follow her out, since she didn’t exactly feel wanted in the common room. Then again, she didn’t feel wanted anywhere inside the castle, save where Jocasta was in the room.

She elected to wander down to the greenhouses. It would be some time before the Herbology lecture. She could get brownie points for showing up early. She could also talk to Miranda.

And so Sparrow found herself in front of the door to the little private greenhouse. Miranda was in. Would she open the door, though, that was the question.

The door swung open without Miranda moving an inch.

Sparrow stepped through. She felt a curious tingling all down her lower back.

"Decontamination field," said Miranda. "No sense letting spores get out. North America lost an entire tree species that way. Now what exactly does the madgirl want, hm?"

"Your help."

"Out of the question," said Miranda. "I have no desire to risk my work by attracting the wrath of the Ministry."

"That’s not what I’m after," said Sparrow. "That work will take years. Decades, maybe. It’s got to be beyond-advanced magic. What I’m after here is much more up your alley."

Miranda paused, with her trowel full of dragon dung poised above a pot. "Yes?"

"See I have this werewolf problem…"

"He’s not a problem," said Miranda.

"Oh yeah? Who’s not?"

"The librarian."

"How on earth did you know I was talking about the librarian?"

"Is it so difficult to deduce?" said Miranda. "Grey hair, dresses all in gray, incredibly shy, shuts himself behind unbreakable magical locks in the library every night? Not much of a secret at all. So what do you request, then? Do you want me to make him a potion to calm his raging soul, on the nights when the full moon finds him?" She turned to her pot and continued to shovel dragon dung in. "Professors Longbottom and Slughorn handle that business. What could I do?"

"I want you to help me find a cure for lycanthropy."

Miranda froze. "Excuse me?"

"If anyone can do it, it’s either you or Slughorn, and I don’t think he’d be interested."

Miranda remained frozen. "You play upon my pride, Miss Jones."

"Does that mean you're not objecting to the concept?"

"No, I mean – " Miranda shook her head, then set her trowel down. She fished in her pocket. "I mean you are offering something part of me finds difficult to refuse."

"Only part of you?"

Miranda brought out her spectacles and donned them. When she finally turned her head towards Sparrow, Sparrow could not see the girl's eyes, only the glint of sunlight reflected off them – bright as sunlight, at least, and Sparrow could discern no other source, yet the gleam upon the glass was bright blue, not the white-gold of day. "Part of me is utterly terrified of the prospect. Such a potion, if it be possible, will be something many will jump at. Yet I say the Librarian is not a problem, and I know he does not believe he is a problem, so if such a potion were forced on someone such as him, well – there is the potential for terrible misuse. So then, I will illustrate why I sometimes find you a vexing figure. Come."

"What do you – "

Miranda took Sparrow by the hand and dragged her out of the little greenhouse, towards the castle wall. She pointed her wand into the air and shouted, " _Ascendio!_ " Suddenly she and Sparrow were rising up past the first floor windows, up past the second, up past the third, up past the fourth, up past the fifth, all the way up to the walkway between the Ravenclaw and Solar tower.

Sparrow staggered for a moment after landing, feeling slightly queasy from the acceleration.

"Get used to that," said Miranda. "Ascendio is a valuable spell to have in your repertoire."

"It's a fifth-year spell!" said Sparrow. "How did you learn it so well already?"

"I used to be more reckless," said Miranda. "Come on then." She took Sparrow's hand once more, and led her to a narrow metal door. She thumped upon it in a complicated pattern, and it swung open.

Sparrow was hit by light nearly as bright as the noonday sun in June. She shielded her eyes.

"Sorry about not warning you," said Miranda. "But this way you'll remember, I guess." She led Sparrow into the chamber and into an alcove shielded from the light, where a straight pole rose up through a wide hole in the floor.

Then she had grabbed the pole and slid down it, leaving Sparrow alone, wondering what exactly she was to do. Miranda had demonstrated it well enough, but actually following her was…

An opportunity to avoid being upstaged by a daredevil Gryffindor. Very well. Sparrow grabbed the pole and jumped on.

As she slid down into the darkness, Sparrow realized three things. One, she did not know what on earth this Solar Tower was actually for. Presumably it collected sunlight, but to what end Sparrow could not guess. Two, Sparrow had no idea where this pole was going. Three, Sparrow was going too fast to be able to stop without taking the skin off her hands. She could only hope that her journey's end would not be a painful crunch or a drop onto spikes of any sort.

Miranda's arms were a little rough as they caught her, but otherwise not painful.

"You are being rather coarse today," said Sparrow, as she was set on her feet. "Did the dashing girl of the Yule Ball disappear, only to leave you in her place?"

"I was not so vexed by you then," said Miranda. "Now, though, after what you have said, and what ambitions you have shown, un-tempered by caution – "

"You think I don't listen to sage advice," said Sparrow, as she looked around. They were in a circular chamber. There were two long hallways stretching in opposite directions, one that had rows of filing cabinets vanishing into the distance, the other, aquarium tanks. "And why did we take this roundabout route to the fish when we could have just got here from the dungeons?"

Miranda looked perplexed. "What do you mean, got here from the dungeons?"

"I mean there's a door in the – "

"No there isn't. I checked. This pole is the only way to the wildlife storage area."

Sparrow shook her head. "Maybe I can't fathom the whims of this place. But why did you bring me here?"

Miranda sighed. "I wanted to show you what Wizards are currently trying to do for the world, and how it could go wrong if handled without care. Come on." She strode into the hallway with the rows of shelves. "You really need to see this."

Sparrow crept forward, wondering if the castle would make a wall of stone slam down before her. But she passed into the hall unhindered. She breathed a sigh of relief. "What exactly am I looking at?"

Miranda opened one drawer, which was full of hand-sized burlap sacks, each as full as they could be. "Seeds."

Each little sack had a different label. There was a sack for heather, a sack for reeds, a sack for the grass that grew on the South Downs.

Sparrow turned to gaze down the hallway. It went as straight as an arrow, so far into the distance that the view almost came to a single point. And every meter along that hallway had the same filing cabinets.

"What's the point?" said Sparrow. "What could these be for, when nothing green will grow?"

Miranda shrugged. "Waiting for the day that isn't so, I suppose. But that's an argument Professor Longbottom and I are having. Sow the seeds, hope they sprout and re-establish proper levels of atmospheric carbon? And yet – come on, I'll show you the other room." She replaced the sack, shut the drawer and strode out of the hall into the room with the fish tanks.

When Sparrow followed, she noticed that the majority of those close to the entrance were empty, full of greenish water and no fish at all. Each one had a beam of sunlight striking down upon it from directly above.

As the hallway was near as long as the other, there was plenty of space for fish tanks, and fish there were in plenty – suspended in the sunlit water, alive but in total stasis. It had unsettled Sparrow the first time she had come upon these tanks. But now she had an idea of what was going on. "This is all to re-stock the world, then?"

"Such is the hope," said Miranda. "Or at least to get it started. Out of all of this, the plankton tanks are most important, because they do most of the job of carbon exchange, far more than the land plants. But that's the thing – we don't have any land creatures here in stasis, and far too few fish species to fill an ocean. So if we re-seed everything, the plants spread wildly out of control, they capture all the atmospheric carbon at once, and suddenly the world becomes much too _cold._ That could prove a fatal overcorrection. See what I mean about being careful?"

"I am getting the idea." Sparrow nodded to the other hallway. "I heard about something like it that muggles did. If you could access that vault, and you weren't careful about scattering the seeds, you could make the problem even worse."

"Svalbard," said Miranda. "I hope that vault survived. Who knows."

"I can guarantee there are plenty of land creatures willing to nibble green leaves," said Sparrow. "An entire forest full of Rhiannons. They'd be a start."

"Oh sure," said Miranda. "Let a bunch of clearly magical creatures run hog-wild over Britain…" She grinned. "But that's what you want Wizards to do anyway. I guess that tracks."

"You didn't really answer my proposal, though."

"Let the Lycanthropy potion be my job," said Miranda. "You have your studies to attend to."

"So do you!"

"Ah, but _I_ know what I am doing with potions. Talking of which, Jocasta has been asking me about making use of a Mandrake leaf – "

"Even before I told her I was ready," said Sparrow. "She's jumping the gun here."

"Oh," said Miranda, "you are involved in her machinations, then?"

"Just for a little project," said Sparrow. "Don't worry about that, it's nothing nefarious."

Miranda folded her arms and glared.

"Also confidential."

"It's for becoming an animagus on the sly," said Miranda.

Sparrow winced. "Nothing gets by you, eh?"

"I know Jocasta far better than I would like. You shall have the leaf, if you wish it."

"Just like that?"

"If you can't handle becoming an animagus," said Miranda, fixing Sparrow with a steady gaze, "you can't handle your ambitions."

"Ah," said Sparrow. "Yes. Fair enough. Can we be going now?"

"Back to the pole," said Miranda, and she strode out of the aquarium room.

"What do you – "

Miranda grabbed the pole and said "Up!" And she rose like she was lighter than air.

Sparrow grumbled a bit and then followed.

At the top, she would have slammed her head into the ceiling if she hadn't braced herself for impact. She fell to the floor and stumbled out the door, keeping her gaze averted from the sun-bright column.

She found Miranda there, looking up at the gathering clouds.

"You don't have to wait long for rain in this season," said Sparrow.

"Just hoping to get hit by lightning for once," said Miranda. "But have I satisfied your queries?"

"I have one more."

"Well then?"

"You said the chief sin of your house is pride. What is the chief virtue?"

"Bravery. I had more of that, once, before I made too many mistakes." She nodded to the Forbidden Forest. "The loss of the remaining pine trees out there was my fault."

"Incorrect," said Sparrow.

Miranda looked nonplussed. "Excuse me?"

"The chief virtue of your house is courage," said Sparrow. "The ability to push on despite fear. No, not the ability – the choice. It's never easy. But you can do it. Me, I have bravery. I haven't been looking where I leap. You are trying to do that. You have done much looking. I'd say it's time for you to leap."

"Ah yes," said Miranda. "And I have my work to attend. Good counsel, my friend, and good day." With that, she leapt over the battlements.

Sparrow cried aloud in horrified shock and rushed to the edge, hoping to catch her with Wingardium Leviosa or something of the sort. But Miranda was slowing her descent with carefully timed Ascendio spells.

It was enough to make Sparrow wonder what Miranda meant, when she said her wand skills were lacking.

...

There were a scant few students who had come around, in the course of a few weeks. Mostly Slytherins, who believed that the entire world ought to be pureblood in the first place. This gave Sparrow some pause.

She decided to confide in a level-headed friend, and set out in search of Cormac. She managed to find him in a particular disused classroom that he had turned into a surreptitious repository for his books of advanced wandlore. It was typically on the fourth floor. Fortunately for Sparrow, it was one of the rooms that moved according to a clear schedule, and so as today was Wednesday she would be certain to find it on the first floor close to the great hall, which meant that Sparrow could sashay straight to it from lunch.

And so she sashayed straight into the room, whereupon Cormac, seeing the face of his friend who he wasn’t supposed to be talking to openly, rushed to close the door. At the same moment Sparrow realized her mistake, and waved her wand to close the door.

Unfortunately Cormac was also hit by the spell, so he wound up being scooted out of the room as the door closed.

He opened it, and said, "There’s such a thing as being too Wizardly, you know."

Then he closed the door, still on the outside of it. And the door did not open again.

No matter how long Sparrow waited, Cormac did not come back. So, she elected to peruse Cormac’s tomes of lore. Ah, here was a good one. _Effects of wand components on spellcasting, volume one. By Yassen Gregorovitch._

_Introduction._

_The middling wand maker knows that Bowtruckles are the key to blah blah blah blah_ alright so this book was boring already. Goodness only knew what Cormac got out of it. Well, Cormac also knew. Maybe Cormac was Goodness. He seemed level-headed enough for it.

The door banged open. There stood Cormac, looking angry, with a gaggle of students behind him. "There you are!" he said. "Out of my study!" He marched over to Sparrow, arms swinging manfully. "What secrets are you stealing from me, eh?" He leaned over Sparrow’s shoulder as if to check the book and whispered, "Just play along and meet me behind the One-Eyed Witch after dinner."

"But sir!" said Sparrow. "I wished only to partake in thy knowledge! I beseech thee, let me become thine apprentice in wandlore, and we shall rival Ollivander together!"

"Out!" roared Cormac. "Never darken my books again!" He grabbed her by the back of her shirt neck and, with Sparrow’s assistance, tossed her out of the room. "And stay out." _SLAM._

Some of the students giggled. "Hey look," said Violet standing among them, "It’s Dent-head Jones." The students sniggered.

Sparrow backed away from the gaggle in haste, turned, and put her face in her hands, pretending to cry. "You are all so MEAN!" she said. "Perhaps no one deserves to have magic!"

A chorus of offended cries.

_You can’t mean it!_

_Surely everyone deserves to have magic!_

_Please don’t take magic away from us, mistress!_

Sparrow felt a hand upon her shoulder. Sparrow looked up. It was Percival Bulstrode, head held high, eyes upon the crowd with a mighty expression. "She’ll spread magic to the whole world," he said, "and you’ll all be grateful." Being a head taller than her, he had to decline his head pretty far to beam at her. "Don’t worry, Sparrow. The Slytherins have your back."

"Hang on a minute," said Maledictus Bulstrode. "If she gives magic to the whole world then bein’ pureblood don’ mean nuffin’ anymore, do it?"

"I have warned you about speaking in the tongue of lower-class Londoners," said Percival.

"But he’s right!" said a Slytherin girl named Belladonna Burke. "How do you lord it over anyone if they’re just as magic as you?"

There was a chorus of disappointed muttering from the crowd of Slytherins, and a few half-hearted insults. All of them slowly sidled away from her except for Percival. Sparrow couldn’t tell if this was a good thing or not. "I shall stand by her," said Percival, "though the world itself may turn upon her. What do you say, Sparrow? Shall we achieve this lofty goal together?"

"I, uh." This was getting out of hand. "I’ve got a partner. Already. I mean, um…Oh! Bulstrode, you cad!" she put a hand up to her forehead and swooned. "I have pledged my love to another, and you shall not take me from her! How dare you even suggest such a thing! My love for her is undying!"

"Hang on a second," said Percival, "I didn’t – "

"Masher!" said Sparrow. "Scoundrel! Be gone from my sight!"

"Shall I duel him in the name of your honor?" said Jill’s voice from the crowd.

"Nay, he is not even worthy of that! Let the base churl depart in peace, knowing of his shame!"

Percival departed, barging his way through the crowd, muttering angrily.

The crowd, meanwhile, was now on to the sort of thing that teenaged children pay attention to in great detail: who is kissing whom. If teachers could somehow manage to make their lesson plans involve romance, marks would go up all over the world. The chorus of queries was all towards that subject.

Some of them were asking about second base.

"My love is pure as the driven snow!" said Sparrow, as she put her hands on her hips. "I should not sully myself with such base acts!"

"I bet that’s because you don’t know how to do them yet," said Jocasta from the front row of the crowd.

"Well, I –"

"I can teach you if you like."

"What shameless impudence!" said Sparrow. "Fie upon you all! I shall tell you nothing more of the subject!" She turned, and marched away with her head held a little too high.

…

The One-Eyed Witch was a part of the castle architecture that moved every day. People swore the old bat was alive, somehow. Well, who knew? She was annoying, at least. Sparrow wasted an entire hour looking for her, only to discover her on the wall opposite the Hufflepuff Common Room door.

How the secret passage moved with her was hard to fathom, but move it did. Sparrow tapped the witch’s hump. A hatch on the top sprang open and Sparrow climbed in.

Cormac was in the passage, along with Jill and Violet. They were lit by a single Lumos from Cormac’s wand. Very spooky. Very conspiratorial. Sparrow would have felt more of a thrill of illicit plotting if it wasn’t for the fact that her wand seemed to be tugging her pocket towards Jill. Sparrow sidled away from Violet, not wanting to deal with any awkward questions. Jill was also standing at a slight distance, and looked peeved.

"Do you think we fooled them?" said Cormac. "Excellent performance, by the way. Wonderful improv."

"It was good enough," said Jill, "that I felt as though some of the students were playing along. Jocasta really sold it. Maybe you two should do improv classes together."

"Sorry about the dent-head thing," said Violet. "That was Jill’s idea."

"Because I think you must have been knocked in the head," said Jill. "This whole plan is ludicrous."

"Well," said Sparrow. "Hopefully it’s ludicrous enough that the Ministry thinks it would never even begin to work. There is such a thing as taking cover under absurdity, you know."

"How very devious," said Cormac. "You’d make a wonderful –"

" _Don’t_ say it."

"She’s dating a Slytherin anyway," said Violet.

Jill pursed her lips.

"That explains why the improv went so well," said Cormac. "Drawing from life, it seems."

"We’re not dating!" said Sparrow. "She’s just helping me with transfiguration and– "

"Jocasta Carrow," said Jill. "You’re dating Jocasta Carrow."

Cormac put his face in his palm.

"Yes. No! It’s a perfectly casual relationship!"

"Uh huh," said Cormac, somewhat muffled. "That’s going to work out perfectly."

Jill was looking extremely put out. But she gritted her teeth and said, "I still have my misgivings about this entire plan. How do you know this will work? How do you know this is what anyone wants? I told you to think about others, girl. You’re bringing water to a desert that’s evolved to live without it. You might sweep away many innocent creatures in the flood."

"My dear," said Sparrow, "I have had that warning hammered into my head many times over the past few weeks. That is why I thought of making the matter a referendum."

"Referendum," said Cormac. "Straight democracy, eh? Ambitious. Foolhardy. Who gets a vote?"

"Everyone."

"Including muggles?" said Violet.

"That’s what ‘everyone’ means," said Sparrow.

"And we will poll everyone in the world _how_ , exactly?"

"Don’t know yet. I still have to figure out if this is even a good question to pose. And to do that I need to talk to the people I would be affecting most...and you know how the Ministry is, which is why we’re all here instead of by the fire in the nice cozy common room, right? If I go around asking muggles if they want magic I’d be in Azkaban before I knew what happened. So Jocasta’s going to help me on that front. I can’t tell you how but – "

"She’s going to teach you how to become an unregistered animagus," said Violet.

Cormac looked up at Violet in shock, then at Sparrow.

Sparrow crossed her arms. "I didn’t say that!"

"She’s the transfiguration witch around here," said Violet, "and there’s genuinely no other transfiguration topic that anyone would want to keep discreet. Unless you’re transfiguring a teacup into a sex toy, I suppose, but that wouldn’t help you talk to muggles. I think."

Sparrow blushed. "I can neither confirm nor deny the validity of your…oh, hang it all. Yes, Jocasta’s helping me become an Animagus. Are you happy? Boy, I’d make a godawful Secret Keeper."

"I want in," said Violet. In the light of their wands there was a strange gleam in her eyes and a strange smile on her lips. "It sounds like it would be great fun."

"Violet!" said Cormac. "I thought Sparrow here was insane, but now you’re jumping in as well? This is…this is. Oh dear. Oh dear dear dear. I think you’ve bit off more than you can chew, girl." He shook his head slowly. "I think you’re going to make a mess of things."

"Not if I have help," said Sparrow, placing a hand on Violet’s and Cormac’s shoulders. "Not if we help each other. What do you say? Willing to try an incredibly dangerous and difficult magical ritual?"

"I’ll do it," said Cormac, " _if_ you survive. That’s a big ‘if’, you know. I could just jolly off and make wands for myself and never give a whit about you again. But I care too much about muggles to just let them dwindle. And I don’t want to see you explode or anything. So. Succeed and I will follow. Only until you succeed will I follow. Violet, I recommend you wait as well until Sparrow blazes the trail."

"I’m not stupid," said Violet.

"You’re wanting to become an animagus before you’re even fifteen," said Cormac.

"I’m insane. I’m not stupid."

"Jocasta’s either going to be delighted or furious," said Sparrow. "Jill? What about you?"

Jill was still looking frustrated.

"What is it?" said Sparrow.

"Nothing! Nothing! Nothing at all! I’ll explain on the morrow. In the meantime let us all be sworn to secrecy."

And so they placed their hands in the center of their circle, and pledged upon their sacred honor.


	2. What Did You See in Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jill lets Sparrow in on some personal business.

The Hufflepuff Girl’s Dormitory was divided into six rooms.

This particular morning, however, there was a seventh, at the end of the dormitory corridor. Jill had informed Sparrow that it would be there, and that she would be in it. Sparrow had taken some time to believe her friend, but then she remembered a night about two years ago where Catarina Quiddler had needed a place to sleep away from a rather abusive ex, something that could last longer than a shield spell, and until such time as the matter was sorted out there had been a seventh dorm room that would open for none but her.

And here it was again. Sparrow knocked on the door, and it opened silently, despite the fact that Jill, already in her school robes, was kneeling with her face pressed against the one tall window. The morning light cast a long shadow behind her. A wide bed stood against the left-hand wall, a wardrobe stood beside it, a chair sat against the opposite wall, a thickly-piled carpet lay between them. That was all the room held.

Sparrow shut the door. "Are you…feeling okay?"

"Hm?" Jill looked back at Sparrow.

"I mean you don’t look exactly happy."

"Oh!" Jill giggled. "I wanted to be kneeling all dramatically in front of the window when you came in, but then I realized I could barely see out the damn thing. So, I was just trying to peer through it."

The windowpane, as Sparrow now noticed, admitted all sunlight and yet, despite appearing to be a plain and un-frosted pane of glass, it offered very little clue as to the view outside. Sparrow was not certain if the shape outside the window was a dead tree or some manner of distant tower.

"Maybe it is best not to ask," said Sparrow.

"That’s a strange thing to hear coming from you," said Jill.

"Let us say…I am learning my limits."

"Ah, yes." Jill stood, but remained staring at the window. "About that."

Sparrow remained at the door for a second, waiting for Jill to say something else, to no avail. She gave up and sat down on the end of the bed, then decided that it would be a far more fitting position if she sat in Jill’s shadow on the carpet.

Still Jill did not speak.

"You called me here for some reason," said Sparrow. "Are you going to let me know what it is or will I be waiting here until breakfast? I know you’re feeling like this is an important meeting but – " She fell silent when Jill turned around.

"I suppose you’re wondering," said Jill, "Why I’ve called you here this – oh hang it all, you look like some kind of poor peasant praying to a god." She sat with her back against the wall, neck at the level of the windowsill, so that her head remained silhouetted. "I can’t possibly talk to you in that position. And I bet I just looked like a towering glowering grump anyway. Aaaaaand I’m still silhouetted." She moved to the side.

"Now you look like you’re a mysterious muttering specter hiding in the shadows, waiting to offer cynical cryptic clues to the idealistic hero."

"You’re not far off the mark," said Jill. "But you’re still in the center of the rug so the positioning is all weird. And you’re lit up in the sun like you’re a sweet little angel."

Sparrow put on an innocent look. "Am I not?"

"Bit of a contrast to your usual aloofness with other students, yes."

Sparrow moved closer to the bed and out of the sunlight. "Better?"

"No. Drama’s ruined. Sorry."

"Here’s an idea," said Sparrow. "You sit on the bed and I’ll – "

"Sit on the bed with me? Little too lovey-dovey for my tastes right now, thank you."

Sparrow huffed. "I was _going_ to say, you sit on the bed and I’ll sit here in the sunlight because I like it."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Jill flopped down on the bed and rolled herself over to lay supine, dangling her arms over the end and hanging her head, while Sparrow moved back to the center of the rug.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"No."

"Spill."

"To you?" said Jill. "Now? Never mind. Forget it. I can’t even tell you now and I can’t tell Jocasta eith – Dammit." She put her hands over her scalp. "The beans have been spilled."

"So you wanted to talk about dating," said Sparrow. "That’s what this is about."

"Yeah."

"You’re missing me?"

"I still have you," said Jill. "I don’t have your kisses. But, that’s by my request."

"Are you…disappointed I’m dating Jocasta?"

Jill said nothing.

"Why?"

"Take a wild guess."

"Guessing time," said Sparrow. "Let me see. I think it’s because…it means I’m getting involved with your arch-rival, influenced by her, enough to start thinking I want to be an Animagus after all – ah, I remember what I wanted to ask you about! I never did get an indication of what you thought of that business."

"I would find it highly amusing to accomplish," said Jill. "I would consider it a mighty challenge. Highly tempting. But I think you’re stalling."

"Oh, I don’t know what you – "

"Think about the situation from my perspective." Jill moved back on the bed and propped her head on her arms. "From the beginning of the school year. We get to school, run straight at each other through the Great Hall and hugs and kisses and oh it’s a grand day to see you again. And you even manage to hold yourself back from mentioning the Statute of Secrecy that day, just for me, like you used to do much better."

"The best day of the year is the day I get to see you again."

"And I always feel the same."

Sparrow beamed, enough to nearly add more sunlight to the room.

"So at that point," said Jill, "I’ve been working up the nerve for months to finally tell you about my feelings for you. But I wait. Just to make sure you’re settled in at Hogwarts before I hit you with something big."

"You mean besides your arms?"

"You know what I mean. But then oh, Jocasta Carrow shows up and – "

"And you’re reminded that you also want to date her."

Jill blinked. "How on earth did you know?"

"It’s not entirely a wild guess," said Sparrow. She stroked her chin. "I’m thinking, you know, if your style of love is to build up to intimacy out of long-established close personal connections, such as with _moi_ …you’ve dueled with Jocasta since First Year, right? Talked to her after matches, seen her now and then, looked forward to seeing her, missed her when she was gone, maybe a little more than you expected…am I on the right track?"

"Pretty damn close."

"And the fact that you totally ditched me from mid-September onwards, and then again later…I know you feel things deeply, deeper than I do. You take stuff seriously. Especially your promises. You never broke a promise that you made to me – "

"Oh yes I did," said Jill. "That one time in First year I said I’d get you a real ball point pen, and I never did. Hang on." She fished around in her sleeve. "Here, have a ball point pen." She tossed a cheap plastic clicker pen at Sparrow.

"That just illustrates my point," said Sparrow. "You care a whole hell of a lot about stuff. Enough to remember an idle promise from years and years ago. So when you tell me you’ve been desperate to hold me safe in your arms, I know you’re telling me the truth. But then in September, you ditch me once when Jocasta was around – "

"If we’re talking about the incident with the bag of flour, I figured you were fine as long as Cormac was there."

"Yeah," said Sparrow. "Now we’re getting to my point. You think as long as you’re not leaving me totally alone, you’re not breaking your vow. Yes?"

"I…hadn’t thought of it that way."

"Doesn’t have to be surface thoughts. Just a matter of reflex. Last year at the end of the school year you would barely let me out of your arms. So if you _are_ able to ditch me, it has to be a situation where you automatically assume I’ll be okay. Right? So you ditch me once, Cormac’s there, you ditch me again at the dining table, Cormac’s there, but then – ooh, the third time is different. Third time is _after_ you made your feelings clear. _After_ you made a promise explicit. I take you to see Miranda up on the walkway, and oh no, Jocasta’s there, your sworn nemesis! You’d think that would be a perfect time to fight for my safety, but no, you _still_ ditch me, because – here’s the point – there’s a part of you that trusts her enough to leave me in her company."

A room with a closed window and a closed door had no opportunity to let wind fill the silence.

"Am I right?"

"Ahem," said Jill. "I’d say you’re getting better at considering how other people think."

"Why thank you – "

"And it’s tempting to make fun of you for overblowing the whole ‘sworn enemy’ thing."

Sparrow frowned. "She isn’t your sworn enemy?"

"I have always felt safe around her. She makes _me_ feel safe."

Sparrow tilted her head in puzzlement. "You? Feel – what could possibly imperil the mighty Jillian Patil, strong as a roaring ox, solid as a mountain?"

Jill looked away. "Let me clarify. She makes me feel like I can be a safe _person_."

"Um – "

"Same as you do. Just…in a different way. How could I possibly explain – oh, I have an idea." Jill rolled off the bed and went over to stand before the window. "Come here. I will give you a better look at what you glimpsed on that fateful September day."

For a moment, Sparrow did not move, nor dare to speak. For Jill’s silhouette filled the window frame, a silhouette of a height and size that would set the weak to whimpering, and have bold heroes loosening their swords in their sheathes. Sparrow stood, in the shadow of that awesome presence, and stepped forward.

"Ready your wand."

"Excuse me?"

"If I do explode in flame, I don’t want you to be caught off-guard."

Sparrow took her wand from her pocket. She held it in both hands close at her solar plexus, pointed straight upright in the ready-rest position of dueling. She would not point it at Jill. Not even if Jill asked.

"And now," said Jill, "just for a moment, I will give in."

In the next moment, where Jill’s face had been a black blankness, Sparrow could see two glowing lines of red, highlighting the line of the girl’s closed eyelids.

And then they opened. And what shone there was not a human eye as anyone would know it, not an eye as anyone would know it, neither pupil nor iris nor sclera, nothing but bright glowing red, the glow of iron just before it melted. The glow of lava as it burst from the earth. The glow of a firestorm on the horizon. Of all colors on the earth, that was the color of fury.

And in the back of her mind, Sparrow heard something. Faint, remote, indistinct, as if down a long hallway. As if two people were on the other side of a door that was down a long hallway, so that one could hear no clear part of what they were saying -- but could hear the utter fury of their argument. Whatever that voice was, whatever it was saying, it was the voice of rage incarnate.

Sparrow's eyes were fixed upon Jill's firey gaze. But something below that gaze caught her attention. A subtle twitch of movement. Sparrow glanced down. Jill's hand was trembling as she held her wand.

Sparrow readied herself to cast a shield around her friend, wondering if any shield she made could possibly hold against the fire that Jill would unleash. Her own hand trembled.

But in the next moment, the trembling ceased. Jill’s glowing eyes became glowing lines once more, and then the glow faded.

"Is that what it is?" said Sparrow. "My best friend is in danger of exploding, just the same as me?"

"You?" said Jill, her eyes now showing only concern.

Sparrow explained what had happened to her eyes in the waters below the ramshackle part of London, and in the alcove with Jocasta.

"I cannot call it a surprise," said Jill. "Both of us are barely contained, in our own ways. You with your ambitions, me with my anger. And yet, I know where my trouble comes from, and why my eyes glow. If you have the same symptoms...what on earth happened to you anyway? What happened in your eighth year?"

"I never said anything about that year," said Sparrow.

"Exactly," said Jill. "That’s the year you never describe to me. When you were seven, when you were six, when you were nine, when you were ten, you have described those years and yet...you had friends when you were seven and not when you were nine. What happened to you?" Jill’s eyes glowed red again. "What happened to them?"

"Nothing!" said Sparrow. "Something. They’re still alive at least. But what happened...that’s a story for a moonlit night. When we can all tell our stories. Mine is the sort of story I cannot tell on short notice. It will take me some more time to feel ready. I am assuming you are the same?"

"I do have my own story to tell," said Jill. "Or some of it, anyway. I will wait for yours if you can wait for mine. But in the meantime, well. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared for you. I’m half-tempted to wrap my arms around you, and then maybe if I hold you tightly, you won’t fly apart."

"Perhaps," said Sparrow. "On the other hand, you might just hold me so tightly I crack, and then I go kablooey anyway."

"That...is a distinct possibility. But moreso for me. Do you get what's going on here? When I said I was distancing myself from you for your safety, I was not joking."

"You really thought you were going to literally explode?"

"I did! Yes! At the dining table, and then many times over the weeks. I was so ashamed of the thought that I could possibly treat you in such a fashion that…I just wanted to be away from everything, and yet in my distance I was ashamed of being distant, and many times I was tempted to turn my rage upon myself."

"Thank goodness you didn't," said Sparrow. "But what you did do was keep the whole situation going."

"A spiral of shame," said Jill. "Hard to get out of, eh?"

"How did you?"

"Cormac helped me to understand," said Jill, "that you of all people were the most likely to forgive me."

Sparrow could not meet Jill's eyes.

"And you did," continued Jill. "After a time. I couldn't have expected any swift reconciliation. You had a right to be angry for what I had done. You still do."

"I don't like being angry with you," said Sparrow. "And I'm sorry that you are so scared of yourself."

"Are you scared of me?" said Jill.

Sparrow shook her head.

"You ought to be."

"It would take a lot of work for you to make me fear bodily harm, my dear."

"Ah," said Jill. "Well then. Step closer, and I will show you what lurks behind my eyes."

Sparrow moved to stand directly before Jill, saying nothing, head filled with questions.

"Now," said Jill. "Look into my eyes."

All of Sparrow’s questions fled away as Jill bent down to put her face right up to Sparrow’s, locking eyes with her. "Look," said Jill. "I mean look. What do you see?"

At first, Sparrow saw nothing, nothing but the depth of pupils. But then she noticed – faintly, possibly, she saw a curious flicker in the way those eyes shone – a flicker that felt oddly familiar.

Jill blinked. The flicker disappeared. But then in a second, it was there again. Sparrow looked into the depths of Jill’s eyes, and in that space, where she expected nothing – there she saw movement, dim and shapeless as if she saw it in a mirror in a darkened room. Movement like flame.

"Sparrow. Tell me what you see."

"Something burns within you. Is this it, then? The glow of your eyes is the glow of a red-hot forge? How long have you been holding yourself together?"

"Enough to leave its mark on my eyes. What do you think happens if I let that fire out all at once?"

"Someone would get killed. No. Many people would be killed. Possibly before they even knew what was happening. I wonder what happens if my light is unleashed all at once?"

"Everyone looking in your direction is permanently blinded," said Jill. "If they are lucky."

Sparrow shivered. "Maybe one or both of us ought to be seeing actual professional counselors sooner rather than later."

"Professional counselors," said Jill, as she folded her arms. "Hm. Muggle concept. Possibly useful."

"Have you never thought about finding one?"

"I wouldn’t want to expose them to any danger." Jill straightened up, and went back to the bed, flopping down upon it once more. Sparrow remained standing before the window, wishing she could see anything out of it to lighten the mood. But as ever, there was nothing. She took her place back on the carpet and rested her chin in her hands.

After a few moments of silence, she said, "Does the dueling club serve as a safe outlet?"

"Could be," said Jill. "But think of it this way. Do you remember Finny Wambsgans?"

"The guy who you almost vaporized – oh. Yes. And then Jocasta jumped in and deflected the fireball like it was nothing."

"And has she ever lost a duel to me since?"

"I imagine she’d be minus an arm if she did."

Jill pursed her lips.

"Sorry. Inappropriate joke. So Jocasta’s never lost a duel to you. Go on."

"What do you think I might be thinking about her all the time?"

"That you…want her around to make sure you don’t kill someone?"

Jill shook her head.

"You like having her around because you know you won’t kill her by accident. So you can relax around her the way you can relax around me. When you’re normally wound as tight as a spring."

Jill nodded.

"And there’s nobody else in the school who you feel like a safe person around? Nobody else who can endure your flames?"

Jill shrugged. "Percival Bulstrode, maybe. He’s gotten real good at dueling. So has his brother Maledictus. I think Lily Birch is completely invulnerable to being burned after that one potions accident but that wouldn’t save her from other spells. And, you know, none of them were like that in First year. So, Jocasta was there first…and besides you I didn’t make other friends. Couldn’t. So for a while Jocasta was the only other person who I met on a regular basis, who I could stand to be around, who seemed like…like they weren’t scared of me."

"You were real chummy with George Peasegood last year," said Sparrow.

"Because he had skin made of stone from that botched Animagus attempt," said Jill.

"Oh yeah, I wondered why he looked slightly grey. I thought he was ill."

"He was. The situation caused him all kinds of medical complications. Maybe it was a little crass of me to take advantage of that? But all his acquaintances kind of abandoned him because of how often he was stuck in the hospital wing, so he had me, and…then his condition got better and he wasn’t safe around me again so – I mean I didn’t totally abandon him, we still write letters to each other – I’m not making myself look good here am I? The point is, you can see why I came to depend on having Jocasta around. Perhaps too much."

"Did you tell her about any of this?"

"How exactly am I supposed to say that without sounding weird and obsessive?"

"Very diplomatically. So you’re saying you never told her?"

"Not really – "

"Have you ever had a proper conversation with her?"

"Nnnnnno."

"Half a conversation?"

"We mostly talk dueling business when we meet."

"So she might have some earthly idea what’s going on here, but it’s not very likely."

Jill nodded.

"And you think she’s not scared of you. She doesn’t flinch away or anything? No sudden back-off glares, looks of cold disdain…nothing like that?"

"She kissed me once last year."

"Oh my _God,_ Jill."

"What!"

"She snogs you and you think you have to hesitate about asking her out?"

"It was on the cheek! Once! I thought it was one of her dumb jokes! She’s always joking about that kind of thing! She’s always going on like ‘oh if I had to marry anyone it would be my mighty giant dueling wife’ and – son of a bitch. Maybe she wasn’t joking."

"Or," said Sparrow, "she was using jokes to deflect thoughts that she didn’t want to take seriously. I think she did that to me over the past semester. Finally worked up to taking it seriously. Ooh la la."

"Well I had every reason to believe Miss Prankster wasn’t being serious. I might have asked her out sooner if I thought she took anything seriously, ever. There were many times I felt a great disdain for her conflicting with my attachment and I couldn’t muster the courage to get her to stop. So – never had a real conversation."

"Alright." Sparrow lay back on the sunlit carpet, staring at the ceiling. "Let’s think about this past September. You’ve never had a proper conversation with this girl, you’ve got incredibly strong feelings about her that you haven’t worked out yet, you’ve got signals from her you haven’t fully understood yet, you’re about ready to tell me your feelings for me and – and had you yet worked out that you wanted to date her by that point?"

"A couple days before the business with the flour. But yeah, I was working up the nerve to talk to her about the situation at the same time I was going to tell you."

"And you were incredibly conflicted, I imagine."

"Bingo."

"So when Jocasta made that crack about you following me into Hufflepuff – "

"She really hit a nerve." Jill buried her face in her arms. "I thought there was no point in telling her my feelings if she was going to make fun of them after all."

"I see," said Sparrow. "It was a delicate moment, teetering like a house of cards, and…either me or Jocasta tipped it over. I have had the feeling that I did something terribly wrong, but I still don't quite understand what."

"You made it clear you didn’t have a clue what I was feeling. I worried that you didn’t have feelings for me at all, not the way I had them for you. So, between one potential romantic partner making fun of me, and another failing to defend me – "

"I was trying to defend you!" said Sparrow. "I was trying to say that the matter shouldn't have been embarrassing! I know it came out like I didn't understand your feelings but you didn't understand me in that moment either!"

"Oh," said Jill.

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way," said Sparrow. "I really am. I didn't understand how seriously you were taking the situation. I should have. I've always known you're really intense and I guess I just forgot about it in that moment because Jocasta was there and – "

"Sparrow."

"What?"

"The shame is mine, here. I ran away from you in shame because I couldn't stand the thought that I could get so angry with you as to be dangerous. I stayed away from you that day in shame. And then a day became a week…and a week became a month…and another month. By that point I was too embarrassed to come back."

"But you did," said Sparrow.

"It was clearly worth the effort. Especially since you missed me."

"Missed you enough to nearly get sick! Yes. That was a terrible semester all around. I had to wonder if you would ever come back, or if you’d had enough of me and my wild ideas after all."

"I’m sorry," said Jill.

"I know."

"Better to communicate one’s feelings, eh?"

"Always."

Jill raised her head. "So let’s talk about the current situation."

Sparrow crossed her arms.

"And how you’re feeling."

Sparrow un-crossed her arms.

"Because from my perspective – I’m feeling like a procrastinating dumbass. Here I go, waiting too long to tell either you or Jocasta about my feelings, and then through a tragedy of repeated errors on my part, suddenly two of the girls I thought about dating are dating each other. Whoopsy-doodle."

"I don’t…see how this is a problem."

Jill glowered at Sparrow. "What in the hell do you mean, you don’t see how this is a problem? You can’t possibly still be as oblivious as you were in September! I just explained the entire situation!"

"From your angle. I didn’t get a chance yet to tell you what I wanted to tell you."

Jill huffed. "Do tell."

"First of all…Jocasta and I aren’t dating."

"Right, right. You’re just snogging here and there. That’s bound to stay platonic forever." Jill rolled her eyes.

"Oh no, no." Sparrow grinned. "Both of us caught feelings for each other a while ago. We just…don’t want to let them get in the way of work. Or cause undue jealousy. Which would interfere in our work. Among other things it would do. And…" She put a hand on Jill’s arm. "I know she has feelings for you too. You know how she’s acted around you, I know what she’s told me. She wouldn’t ever say she was in love, not directly. But she cares about you. She wants you to be happy."

"Oh, um. Okay. Go on."

"At the Halloween Ball…what did she say now? Something like, ‘I could cut in between you and Jill, but that would be a terrible prank, I do not wish to hurt Jill.’ Something like that."

Jill’s eyes widened. "She was being sweet?"

Sparrow shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Jocasta Carrow, prankster queen of Hogwarts, mocker of all people high and low, was being sweet. For my sake."

"For your sake. And then…she’s got to have been paying close attention to you for a while, because she told me you had embers in your heart that would catch fire again and then you’d come back to me. And here you are."

"Oh dear," said Jill. "Oh dear oh dear oh dear." She buried her face in her arms again. "Now what do I do. Now I have to choose at some point. Or never pursue either option."

"How do you know that’s true?"

"Eh?" Jill raised her head.

"I raised the idea with Jocasta first, but…actually, I think she gave me the idea first at the Halloween Ball. ‘Boo hoo what a pity we have monogamy.’ Or something. Maybe she didn’t mean to give me the idea but I got it."

"What exactly are you getting at?"

"If forcing a choice on you would do you harm, I won’t have that. You could have us both, you see? And we could be three, and have each other. Without having to think we were keeping any one of us from the other."

"Seriously?"

"Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of such a thing."

"Sparrow, I’ve seen it happen at this school a few times."

"Oh, well – "

"I just didn’t consider it a possibility for me. But. Here I am. Thinking about it now. Thinking how I might like that after all. Now I’ve got a lot to think about. So thanks a bunch."

"If it’s easier on you," said Sparrow, "I could back off and let you have your fun with Jocasta."

"Don’t martyr yourself, girl."

Sparrow rose, and moved to look out the window as best it let her. "We’ve been the best of friends for three years," said Sparrow. "That’s what I care about most here. If I’m standing here at the window, it’s to hide my own mortification. In my obliviousness I almost destroyed something dear to me."

Sparrow fell silent.

Then Jill was there, with a hand on her shoulder. "Come on," she said. "I thought I made it clear that I was the real dumbass in that situation."

"You were the real dumbass _after_ that situation."

"We’re both dumbasses."

Sparrow giggled. "Might as well stick together, then. But, you know, what I’m talking about, all this polyamory business…it’s hypothetical right now anyway, right? Because of your worries about your wand."

"Exactly." said Jill, "so – hang on." She turned to face the bed. "Okay, Sparrow," she said in a tone normally reserved for being upwind of a fearsome beast. "Don’t take out your wand – "

But that was the wrong thing to say, because a readied wand was Sparrow’s immediate reflex at the first sign of danger. She whirled around, expecting to see some manner of many-tentacled beast.

There was nothing. Nothing but a wand on the bed.

"Jill, what exactly are you – hey!" The wand on the bed flew straight at her. Her own wand flew out of her hand. They met in the air with a resounding _CLACK_ , and hung there, fixed in place.

Fixed in place for all eternity, it seemed. No matter how much Sparrow or Jill pushed and pulled, the two wands did not move, nor did they come apart.

"This bullshit," said Jill. "This is exactly what I’m talking about. It’s like our wands are in love, or something."

Sparrow kept trying to pry the wands apart, to no avail. "I know what you mean. Imagine trying to kiss you and poking you with the wand every time."

"It’s not just that!" Jill threw up her hands. "Oh, if it were only just that! It’s like the wands are trying to play matchmaker! It’s like they’re yet another thing trying to tell me I have some kind of Destiny! I don’t hold with that nonsense and I’m not going to start now!"

Sparrow sat down beneath the wands, flustered but unwilling to move away from her own. "Yet another, eh? Do tell."

"Nope."

"Nope as in never?"

"Maybe later. Maybe on a moonlit night – "

"When the moon shines full and the fire burns bright," said Sparrow. "Right. And you will hear Cormac’s story then, and Blaise’s. All in good time."

"And in the meantime," said Jill, "I get to kiss Jocasta after all?"

"You have to ask her. Yourself."

"Fine." Jill sat down in front of Sparrow. "If you really want to make it a trio, you have to think about what that will take."

"Open communication," said Sparrow, "clear negotiation of boundaries and what gets shared, coordination of time schedules, and a decision on whether to make the relationship open or closed. Did I miss anything?"

Jill blinked. "I was thinking about everyone else’s reaction."

"You said they didn’t mind."

"I said I’ve seen it happen around here. But, Sparrow, think about it. What does everyone in this school say about love?"

"That it – uh – "

"Saved…come on, your memory isn’t that bad."

"The world. Love saved the world. Because it saved Harry Potter's life twice and then it kind of…saved everyone else at the battle of Hogwarts, I think? I didn't exactly understand that part of the records. But my memory is _fine,_ thank you very much. I just haven't paid all that much attention to gossip until this year."

"Fair enough," said Jill. "So think about it. They see me getting kissy with Jocasta, then they see _you_ getting kissy with Jocasta, and they think two of us are terrible awful no-good cheaters, and in a righteous defense of Love they turn one of us into a toad. Remember what happened to Geoffrey Cranshaw when he cheated on his girlfriend?"

"Someone turned him into a toad."

"Exactly!"

"And I just falsely accused Percival Bulstrode of cheating on his girlfriend."

"You…oh right, you did. Maybe you want to tell people it was a lie before he gets turned into a toad as well. See, this is what you get for not paying attention to your fellow students."

"Don’t remind me. Strike that. Keep reminding me. Getting to the matter at hand, you say our fellow students are righteous in the defense of Love. Would they interfere if three of us were openly a trio?"

"They might be surprised. It’s not a very common thing, except in the storybooks we pass between each other. We might find people interfering for the sake of upholding unrealistic idealism. These are the same students who willingly toss in a galleon to pay for the Cupids to come around. We’re all very Romantic."

"Oh goodness, don’t remind me."

"I think I will have to keep reminding you about that as well."

"Ugh!"

"It’s for your own good, girl."

" _Ugh!_ "

Jill giggled. "Now you know what you sound like sometimes. Ah, but you’ve got a heart of gold. Always trying to do the right thing. I may need you for that someday. As I need Jocasta for – oh dear. I wonder if I need her for everything."

"Sounds like you’re in _love._ "

"Oh goodness," said Jill, "is that what it is? I had _no_ idea. Thank you _so_ much for reminding me."

"And I’m in love."

"With Jocasta?"

"With you, silly!"

"Oh yes," said Jill. "How could I possibly have forgotten that? I must be taking it for granted. But wait – you are _in_ love? You have _fallen in love?_ Is this _Romance?_ You find me _attractive?_ "

"Mmmmaybe," said Sparrow. "Maybe. You, um. You do have. Um."

"Yes?"

Sparrow's voice was barely audible as she mumbled, "You have a nice-looking posterior."

Jill smirked. "Ah yes. I am Jill Patil with the Cutie Patootie."

Both of them spent the next minute giggling.

Sparrow finally caught her breath, and said, "No love songs though. None of that stuff."

"Ah ha," said Jill. "Well then, how will you express your burning passion?"

"Like this." Sparrow scooted close, and rested her forehead upon Jill's.

"Oh," said Jill. "Just like always, eh?"

"Just like always," said Sparrow. "For now. Because I have loved you since nearly always. I fell in love with your own burning passion, with the drive to meet all challenges – you were a scrawny little kid once, do you remember?"

"It's been quite some time since then," said Jill.

"Ever since you declared you would be a quidditch beater," said Sparrow. "And that was what, October of First Year?"

"September."

"And you finally made the team in Second Year. And never looked back. So I fell in love with your passion and your will, and your unflagging defense of your fellow students in the time before I had perfected my shield – I have always seen your inner strength shining outward. And now I can see why. I love your strength, your true strength, that keeps terrifying power in check. And I love your big beefy arms and your wonderful face and your long hair and – and – "

Jill wrapped her arms around Sparrow, and hugged her tightly.

"Yeah," said Sparrow, as she returned the embrace. "Like that. "But how on earth could I claim to love you, how could I say I was kind, if I kept you away from someone you loved?"

"You don’t have to convince me any more about this," said Jill. "I’m on board if you are."

"Then you have your fun with Jocasta, and I’ll have my fun with her, and when you’re ready I can have my fun with you too. Does that work?"

"I’d say it does." Jill let Sparrow go, and looked up. "But until I figure out what’s going on with our wands…I can’t say when, if ever, I’d be ready for you."

"We’ll figure it out," said Sparrow.

"How do you know?"

"Hello? Teenage lust? Ought to be an excellent catalyst for research. Hell, I’ve got an idea already. If this wand thing doesn’t happen all the time but only when we’re feeling real passionate about each other, like at the dueling club, then maybe if we can let passion go…"

"Yeah, sure," said Jill. "I’ll just meditate my way through my entire life."

"Try it now."

"How do I – "

"Close your eyes. There you go. Get in a comfy position, breathe deeply in and out, and think about nothing."

"How do I – "

"Ah ah ah! No speech no thoughts."

For a minute nothing happened. Then, as Sparrow watched, both wands uncoupled and fell out of the air.

She glanced at both wands on the floor, snatched up one and stuffed it in her pocket before it could cause any more trouble. She handed the other to Jill.

"Marvelous," said Jill. "Now how am I going to do that all the time?"

"I don’t know," said Sparrow, as she stood. "Practice? And I’ll ask Cormac about what else we might do. Mister Wand Lore has to have _some_ ideas. "

"Or he knows where to look for them," said Jill. "In the meantime, let’s avoid exciting our wands."

"Well, it’s not like I have one, anyway."

"You don’t – _Sparrow_!" She giggled. "I _mean_ , the only way we’re going to be able to be together right now is to remain chaste. Are you okay with that?"

Sparrow nodded.

"Then," said Jill, "Let us not think of ourselves as romantic lovers, right now, but as sword and shield. Someday you will know how to wield the sword and I the shield. Do you want to try to learn again?"

"Perhaps I do," said Sparrow. "But my wand would not approve, I fear."

"Which wand?"

"Jill!"

Jill giggled. "Sorry. Bad start."

"Well, let me know when you do want to try dueling again."

Jill giggled.

"Not that kind of dueling!" Sparrow let out an angry huff. "Is there anything you want me to tell Jocasta?"

"Tell her…tell her that I am very cross with her for the rumors she has spread, and how she spoke to me on that September morning. Tell her that if we are to date, she shall not do such a thing again, to anyone. Tell her that I – I benefit immeasurably from her company, and hope that she benefits from mine, and that I wish for such a relationship to last for a very long time. In whatever form it may take."

"You wish her to stop a very old habit," said Sparrow. "Hm. That will be tricky. You could set it as a price for your affections, but…the old ‘if you love me’ ultimatum isn’t a good way to start a relationship."

"I can’t see any other way. Even if it’s a bad way. I might fall into it without meaning to. I mean, I’m clearly nervous around her everywhere besides the field of battle, so I’d – why are you grinning?"


	3. Shouldn't have said that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jocasta should not have said that.

The next day after the end of afternoon classes, Jocasta dragged Sparrow into a passage hidden behind a bookcase near the entrance to the dungeons, and, after Sparrow cast a silencing charm on the stonework, they kissed for about two minutes straight.

"Well done," said Jocasta. "You’re already getting better at this."

"Is it that hard? Wait, wait, don’t answer that."

"You walked right into that one," said Jocasta. "Hey, did you talk to Jill yet?"

Sparrow relayed Jill’s message, and explained what had happened to her after that fateful morning in September.

Once again, Jocasta’s mask of amused disdain slipped, and she looked genuinely concerned. And from concern her face became sullen, and she sank to the floor, sitting slumped against the wall. "I…" she coughed. "Wow. Okay. I guess I really did happen to her."

"As did I," said Sparrow. She sat down next to Jocasta. "I didn’t know, you didn’t know. But now we know. Are you going to do that kind of thing to her again? Or anyone?"

"Maybe."

Sparrow gave Jocasta a Look.

"Ok. Maybe not."

"Do you still want to date her?"

Jocasta’s cheeks turned pink. "It’s, um…I don’t know. I mean the news is just as I wanted to hear. I would hate to be interested in her if she’s not interested in me, but you know how those things go, sometimes it doesn’t work out, but – "

"Why are you nervous?" said Sparrow. "You were the one making all sorts of unsubtle hints about being interested in her since September. I should think you would be overjoyed at this news."

"Well now it’s more than a joke! Now it’s a real thing! Haven’t you ever practiced a piece of music for ages and ages and still shivered all over when it came time to perform on stage?"

"I don’t play music."

"But you do understand my analogy, yes? Stage Fright."

"I think so. Look. I understand that you’re a little nervous to get this ball rolling but it’s already rolling. I had to convince Jill that I wouldn’t stand between you two. Well, not as a barrier. We each have two hands, after all."

Jocasta raised an eyebrow. "It sounds as though you are learning more from me than I expected."

"And so will Jill, I expect. _If_ you treat her right. I won’t have it any other way. But I don’t expect that I will have to remind you."

"And if she treats me right?" said Jocasta. "Look, part of the other reason I’m nervous is because she’s been pining away instead of communicating all this time. Could be dangerous if she lets all that tension go at once. Ah, but then I’d have to blame myself too."

"Dangerous physically?"

"Emotionally. Like, yelling at me. I mean – I care enough about her to care that she’d be angry with me. And I have to worry because she's, you know. Jill the Fire Giant."

"Could be a problem, yeah."

"And…I’m actually a little disappointed with her. I have been ever since the incident with Guillermo. I feel like…if she’s obsessed with my presence in a non-violent situation, that’s one thing, but if she’s doing it at _dueling club?_ Things get hairy. She might get more and more careless as she gets more obsessed. Poor Guillermo lost an ear because Jill was slinging around a fire-whip spell. That was _such_ a terrible idea. So like – I’ve been wanting her to back the hell off from dueling club, for once, but as long as I’m there, as long as I _exist_ , she’s there bringing the firestorm."

"And you didn’t think to speak with her in a moment outside of Dueling Club?"

"Too nervous. And, you know, the last time I tried was September, which was, as I now understand, a complete fucking disaster."

"It was indeed."

"And if I date her…I don’t know. I’d want her to stop going to the dueling club but I feel like I shouldn’t be barging into her life with an ‘if you love me’ ultimatum."

"You will have to have that out with her."

"Outside the field of battle?"

"Up to you. Now, we have some matters of business to discuss. For the clock is ticking here. At some point we’re going to have a full moon."

"Yes," said Jocasta, "they tend to come around once per month."

"Maybe so. But I only have so many months, before the end of the school year. I only have a few chances to get this right. What do I need?"

"Grow your hair out, first of all. We’re going to need some of that."

Sparrow shook her head. "I don't want to risk getting impersonated again."

"Did your short hair save you last time?"

"Um. No."

"Well there you go. And I want to see you with your hair grown out anyway. You had that poofy-cloud hairstyle in Second Year and it looked really cute."

"You were eyeing me even then, eh?"

"Maybe. _Anyway_ the first real step is to keep a single mandrake leaf under your tongue for an entire month."

Sparrow blinked. "An entire month? That’s thirty days!"

"One full moon to the next. Twenty eight days."

"How – "

"And if there’s clouds in front of the moon that night, too bad. You have to start alllllllllll over." She traced a line down her cheek as if to imitate a tear. "I told you this was hard when you signed up, girl. I’ve got ways to make this easier but it’s still a mighty challenge. First, we’re going to need to put you on a liquid diet. Which means either faking an illness, unlikely in this place, OR bribing the kitchen staff. As for weather, we’re going to need to figure out how to manipulate that. Not sure how yet."

"We are Wizards," said Sparrow. "We’ll figure it out. Um. Talking of signing up…"

"Yes?"

"What if someone else wanted to join on this venture?"

Jocasta took a deep breath. "Please, tell me you didn’t tell anyone about what we’re doing."

"Just my friends. You know, the ones I trust absolutely? Anyway, Violet figured it out before I could say anything, and Miranda also knows what you're up to."

Jocasta had her palm up to her face. "The more people we get involved in this, the more likely it is that our cover will be blown. You shouldn’t have told them what we were up to."

"You wanted to let Jill in on this!"

"And she was the last one, besides maybe Miranda! The more people we have involved here the closer we are to being discovered. How many friends you do you have?"

"You, Jill, Cormac, Violet, and maybe Miranda. And Blaise. I’d like to think Filch is a friend but he’s more of a challenge."

"That’s already too many! How is a ghost going to become an Animagus?"

"I didn’t say him! And he doesn’t know about this whole thing anyway, I’ve just been trying to sneak past him. Anyway, I have an idea. What if we blow our cover before it’s blown?"

"Excuse me?"

"Tell McGonagall. Get some help from an adult."

"Tell the Headmistress of the Hogwarts? Are you insane?"

"She told me I could tell her about my troubles. You know her office was where I revealed my grand plan to the entire school, and she didn’t say no. Or yes. But she hasn’t expelled me or anything. So, I think she’s safe."

"She’s safe about _your_ plan. She doesn’t know about this one! This is super goddamn illegal! No, we’re not telling her. And that’s that."

"If you think it would spoil your sport, fine. Oh, talking of spoiling sports. Jill really wants you to stop your pranks."

Jocasta pouted. "But I like pranks."

"And Jill doesn’t like it when you do that. But, you know, you don’t like the ‘if you love me’ ultimatum, I don’t like it, but you’ll need to have this out with her sooner rather than later…and yet you’re worried about reconciling these anywhere besides the field of battle…so…I have an idea."

"And that is…"

"Do you like duels?"

"Of course I – oh. _Oh._ " Jocasta’s eyes widened. She grinned from ear to ear. "Yes, I very much enjoy dueling."

"You would be willing to, say, wager something important on the outcome?"

"Oh no!" Jocasta put her hand to her forehead and swooned. "How could I possibly wager you in a duel? What if I lose? Not that I shall lose, of course."

"Oh no," said Sparrow. "Nothing so melodramatic. You can imagine that I would not appreciate being treated like a trinket in any case."

"What do you – "

"Hello?" Sparrow put her hand up, and turned it around a few times to make it clear how much paler her palm was than the back of her hand. "Reason number three that I'm super-protective of everyone I meet? Time was when we could not have kissed, and not so long ago. That's not happening again as long as I still breathe."

"You claim quite a large protectorate. What's reason number one?"

"That's the one I'll tell you later. When the full moon rises. Many stories to tell that night, and on my part, that is when I will place all my trust in everyone."

"Very well!" said Jocasta. "I am glad to have most of your trust, in any case. Now, what exactly am I wagering?"

"A permanent change in your behavior," said Sparrow.

"And does Jill know of this plan?"

"She has wagered the same."

"Well then. Just for coming up with this, I will let you have ten extra minutes of practice here before we pay Miranda a visit."

And they were ten minutes well spent.

…

"Mandrake leaves will be ready in a week’s time," said Miranda. She had her spectacles on again, as she was examining the stem of a Witch Hazel flower, entirely nonchalant where Jocasta and Sparrow were both extremely tense, for while two slight young Wizards could have fit with Miranda in the greenhouse, it was much harder to do without disturbing plants of unknown lethality.

"A week!" said Sparrow. "That’s seven days! I want it now."

"Oh listen to you," said Jocasta. "Rush rush rush. You can’t rush this, girl."

"How do you have mandrakes on hand anyway?" said Sparrow. "Wait a second." She glared at Jocasta. "How long have you two been setting this whole scheme up?"

"Don’t look at me!" said Jocasta. "Miranda here has been growing these things since the beginning of the school year! I just happened to know who to ask about the Animagus potion due to the advice of a friendly witch." She nudged Sparrow. "Sometimes you do know what you’re doing."

"Farther back than that," said Miranda. "I have had Mandrakes growing since I was granted this greenhouse, nearly one year ago. Stewed Mandrake Root is the primary ingredient for antidotes, and we all need those, yes? As do I. Especially if one of my experiments happens to go wrong. So – if I would be a Mistress of the Cauldron then I must know how to plant Mandrake, tend Mandrake, and safely harvest Mandrake." She turned her head to give her companions a significant look. "The wards on this place are nothing to do with being possessive of my creations. "

"So you have your antidote ingredients on hand," said Jocasta. "And by sheer coincidence, the leaves of that very pant are the primary ingredient in polyjuice. How convenient."

"Quite. Though if you are thinking of it cynically, do not. When I say my potions are only experimental, I mean that I document my experiments and give the records to Professor Longbottom."

"Wait," said Sparrow. "Does that mean he knows – "

"He didn’t have to know about December’s incident." Miranda glanced towards the door. "And he doesn’t have to. Maybe. I don’t know if I could bear the shame of him knowing. Jocasta, I must say I am not pleased to be your acquaintance right now."

Jocasta looked nervous.

"Consider the situation." Miranda finished examining her Witch Hazel, and turned around, casting a stone-faced gaze down upon the shivering witch. "I can inform my Professor of how I betrayed him, and thereby betray you. Or I can keep my mouth shut, and continue to break _his_ trust, and also slowly break down inside. Either way I feel like a cynical traitor right now."

"For going behind his back one time?" said Jocasta, failing to hide her fear behind a smirk. "He’s just a teacher."

"Who provides me with so much."

"What, is he your Sugar Daddy or something?"

Miranda removed her spectacles and rubbed her eyes in a clear sign of exasperation.

Sparrow nudged Jocasta to get her attention but the raven-haired witch continued speaking. "Does little Miranda not get enough love at home? Do you have mommy issues? Is that why you suck up to – "

Miranda’s eyes opened.

In that moment, neither Sparrow nor Jocasta literally froze, nor indeed did the actual temperature in the greenhouse change. But the girls might as well have been frozen solid, and it might as well have been an arctic winter in there. For Miranda’s eyes showed not the pupil nor iris nor sclera of a human eye, nor indeed the shape of any living eye, but only an ice-blue glow, the glow of a glacier’s inner depths.

Sparrow had never seen such a color beyond the printed page. But, here it was. A color right out of an older world.

It was Sparrow who broke the ice first. "That’s twice I’ve seen such a thing in one day."

Miranda frowned, and blinked. The glow faded. "Seen what now? Wait, why does everything look more orange all of a sudden? What happened?" She shook her head. "Never mind. Where were we? Oh, yes. Jocasta was giving me an extreme insult in the middle of my own greenhouse, after I thought I had made it clear that I was being extremely gracious in doing any further business with her."

Jocasta remained frozen in place.

"Does she think it is possible to obtain spare mandrake leaves anywhere else?"

"Certainly not for a low price," said Sparrow.

"Low price." Miranda huffed. "Here’s the price. Jocasta doesn’t get to come in here anymore until we both go and apologize to Professor Longbottom for misusing his gift."

"That’s…not the highest price."

"And if you want any ingredients at all for the Animagus potion, then I am _absolutely_ going to tell the professor what we’re all up to."

"Um – "

"Because I have had it with tricks. I have had _enough_ of skulking, of sneaking, of going behind the back of the man who trusted me more than anyone else ever did. You have your honor and I have mine and for once Jocasta needs to learn what that means. Get it?"

Jocasta coughed.

Miranda did not turn her head to pay attention, nor act in any way like she had heard.

"Tricks and wiles and deceits and folly," said Jocasta. "If you attend the Dueling Club tonight, you may have your satisfaction for my crimes."

Miranda turned back to her work, donned her spectacles, and said nothing.

Sparrow took Jocasta by the arm and led her out of the greenhouse.


	4. The Duel of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jocasta and Jill follow Sparrow's advice and sort out their differences the best way they know how.

"I don’t know why you even invited me here," said Violet.

"Didn’t want you to miss out," said Cormac. "That’s all."

"Hush," said Sparrow. "I have to make a speech."

This evening, the colonnades of the Dueling Club Courtyard had filled nearly to the point of being a fire-safety hazard. Yet no student had dared venture out beyond the columns, until Sparrow had promised to protect the audience. That was enough for people to start filling the space close to the bridge, so that Sparrow could actually get through the crowd and out to the stage.

She didn’t know whether Jocasta or Jill had blabbed, but word had certainly spread fast. Good heavens, it felt as though half the school was in attendance. Along with half the teachers. Including Rubeus Hagrid. And Hermetray Budge. And Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

Sparrow considered the possibility that, when she had informed her Headmistress of the event, a portrait had been hiding in its frame instead of following orders to vacate, and the word had spread from there.

Miranda stood in the far distance at the bridge, next to Hagrid. Had she blabbed? No, of all the people in the school Miranda was the least likely to gossip. She couldn’t exactly do it from inside a greenhouse.

Sparrow caught a glimpse of a high green pointy hat peeking over a rampart far above. Alright, so the information had spread enough to reach Blaise. Which meant everyone in the castle was going to hear about how this all played out. Including what Sparrow said.

For a moment, she was frozen in terror. But then she realized – this was also her opportunity to perform. And to save someone else from harm.

She stepped out onto the dueling stage, pointed her wand at her throat and whispered, "Sonoroninus." Then she turned to her audience.

"Friends!" she said, in a voice that none could miss. "Fellow students, teachers and all. You have come to see the thrill of battle, and some of you have come to be certain that none come to harm. For you have heard that tonight will be a match to remember, between two of the school’s foremost duelists. You have heard of a battle for glory, between the Jillian Patil and Jocasta Carrow."

The audience cheered and whistled.

"And yet – I will tell you the truth of this battle, as I understand it. As I have your attention now, I will invite you to consider love. For I have been told that you all hold it in high regard."

The audience fell silent.

"To begin with, I offer an apology to Percival Bulstrode, for my slander against him. I will not seek to explain my reasons for sullying his reputation, because I do not believe they would excuse me, nor do I seek an excuse. All I wish to tell you is that, if any of you still believe he was cheating on his true love, you are mistaken, and I am the source of that mistake."

Now the crowd started to murmur. And the murmurs did not sound happy.

"I have hoped that he has not been injured by anyone wielding righteous fury. How much of a fool I have been, for failing to consider that possibility, for failing to ask after his fate, knowing even in the moment that I had done him evil? Could I then say truthfully that I love him?"

Now the audience began to murmur excitedly.

"Could I say I love anyone? Could I say I love you all? It would be an assertion I had failed to support."

Now the murmurs sounded confused.

"You all know me as the mad girl, the dent-head, Miss Jones of the Wild Ideas. I can tell you that the things I have proposed, I have done out of love for all people. For all of you, some of whom I know, many of whom I do not know. I have feared for your futures, stifled by secrecy, stuffed within hidden alleys, cut off from your families in remote castles – if we grow up to be loving people out of such places it is because we love each other, and not because our lives are easy. How tempting for me to think a life lived openly would thus be joyous!

"And yet, if I assume such, if I inform none, if I try to change the world without so much as a by-your-leave, then all could perish. I could not say with any truth that I loved the people of the world, and then turn around and break all the walls down before knowing what the consensus might be.

"Nor, on the scale of this school, could I say I loved you all and remain as haughty as I have been. I confess that I looked down upon you all for your conduct, and so interposed myself in all conflicts, so that a protective habit became condescending. If you love each other then my shield need not be raised so often. I do not think you ever needed my shield as much as I gave it to you.

"Nor, on a personal level, could I say I loved you all while doing awful things to individual people, as I did to young Master Bulstrode, as I did to my dear Jocasta Carrow, as I did to my dear Cormac McKinnon, as I did to my dear Jillian Patil. If I can find a way to atone for my sins against my friends perhaps I can say in all truth that I love them.

"And that is one sort of love, the kind that is for all, like the flames of the hearth fire in a happy home. Yet there is another, one I have felt myself, one you are all, perhaps, more experienced in considering. I speak to you of love tonight because I believe many of you are here to see such a thing play out here on the dueling stage.

"Call this Romance, call this Passion, call this what you will. To me it is the heat of a hearth fire when it catches new logs, and springs up bright, merry, roaring in joy. Quite a sight to behold, and dangerous to stand too close. Yes, I have been there. I am still there. But tonight is not my battle, nor do those who own this battle compete for my hand – oh no! That would make this more easy. No, they compete for each other, against each other."

Again the murmurs were confused.

"For lately love has begun to spring up between them. Or can I say, it has been there for some time? Only now does it begin to burn bright. And yet – they each come to the relationship with questions un-answered, issues not yet reconciled. And each of them is just a little to nervous about each other to reconcile those issues…save when they stand here."

Students who had been pestering each other, yawning in boredom, fiddling with their nails, laughing at jokes, now stood in rapt attention.

"Per my suggestion, they agreed to have out their issues here, on the field of battle. But this is no mere grudge match! Oh no! For each of them has wagered upon this duel some things that are dear to them."

From the crowd arose a low rumble of laughter. Some people were pointing to Sparrow.

"No, they did not wager me. Alas. As I say, they do not compete for my hand. No, they have wagered their future courses of action. Whoever is the victor shall gain one price from the other. Jillian! Will you please come to the stage."

Jill stepped out, striding tall and proud. Many in the crowd clapped and whistled for her.

"Jillian the Roaring Dragon! Fearsome is her flame and many of you have quavered before it. If she is victorious, she asks that Jocasta no longer play pranks upon the people of the school."

From the crowd arose a gasp.

"Jocasta! Will you please come to the stage."

Jocasta pranced her way out to Sparrow, grinning like a madman, as many in the crowd cheered for her.

"Jocasta of the Swift Wings! The clever duck, the darting fox, the floating butterfly, the stinging bee! Many of you have felt her sting! If she is victorious, she asks that Jill no longer attend the Dueling Club."

Now the entire crowd gasped.

"For each has injured others with such careless actions! By fire hurled with abandon, by frame-ups through impersonation! And yet, if either would cease such conduct, they would feel they had lost parts of themselves, and they would return to such behavior once more. So they have wagered these parts of themselves, in order that a loss on the field of battle will better bind them to the promise, for the honor of the battlefield is central to both of their souls. Now, will the members of the dueling club please make themselves known!"

Thirty students stepped out from between the columns. They were greeted with much applause, though none of it came from the teachers.

"The senior members of the club will serve as referees, and resolve any disputes that may arise. I do not expect such reconciliation to be necessary, but please do not obstruct their views of the battle, lest the validity of this fight be broken."

The members of the dueling club stepped backward, standing between the columns instead of hanging back within the colonnade. Sparrow pointed her wand at her throat and whispered, "Quietus."

Then she turned to Jocasta, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Please," she said. "Give this fight your all. If you have any thought of throwing the match, let it pass away."

Jocasta snorted. "Kinda sounds like you’re impugning my honor."

Sparrow turned to Jill.

"You have nothing to fear from me either," said Jill. "And I am glad that you want this fight to be completely real. I was a little worried you had turned a private conflict into a Professional Wrestling match with all your theatrics."

"I fear the audience has done so already," said Sparrow. "They expected a grand narrative, I gave them one. Was any part of it false?"

"No part," said Jocasta. "Just a little overdone."

"You will both give your all, then?"

"I will do my best," said Jill. "Pray you never see my all."

"I’m just praying she keeps that shield up," said Jocasta.

Sparrow left the stage, and took her place between the columns. She raised her wand and shouted, "PROTEGO!"

What sprang up within the courtyard was not quite like any shield Sparrow had ever done. It was not a plane, nor a dome, but a cylinder, whose top was either lost in the clouds or not there at all. It was far more translucent than usual, thereby affording a better view to all spectators. It was an oval cylinder, wide enough to touch both rows of columns, long enough to reach from the audience at the bridge to the stone wall behind the stage.

It was also the first shield that gave Sparrow any sense of requiring effort in the past two years.

Uh oh.

Jill and Jocasta were holding their wands pointed to the ground and bowing to each other. Well, no calling things off now. The fun was about to begin and so was hers.

The fun began with an explosion.

That was the easiest way to describe it – that in the space of a short breath the column was filled from end to end with a swirl of fire, as high as three windows above the courtyard. The shock of the impact sent a shiver down Sparrow’s arm and into her spine, nearly causing her to lose control of the shield. It was by slim chance that she managed to keep her grip on her wand.

In that same moment, the audience shrank back, wondering if they themselves had got in over their heads. But they could see the fire splash against the shield, and terrified cries gave way to excited ones, as the fireball itself died down.

And when it did, Sparrow had a moment of dread, for there stood Jill, and Jocasta was nowhere to be found.

Until she appeared out of thin air behind Jill and fired off a stunning spell. Ah, that was Jocasta. Never where you expected. The audience cheered her reappearance, and people started talking about how she appeared to have mastered apparition.

Jill dodged the stunning spell by a hair’s breadth and then fired off her own. A wild miss, or so it seemed, until it ricocheted against the shield and straight at Jocasta’s back. But she had already vanished, and appeared behind Jill to try the same trick again.

Again Jill dodged the stunner. And again. And again. Each time by a fraction of a second. Sparrow began to think she would lose soon. The girl looked like she was breathing heavily already. She must have used up too much energy in her opening gambit. And yet Jocasta was also breathing heavily. She was not apparating around the field – that was impossible. She was transfiguring herself, again and again. Too much. It had to be more work than it looked like, especially to change so much mass in an instant. So both of the girls had tried new gambits that they couldn’t handle for too long, and were forced to keep trying them because they were evenly matched.

And in the meantime, Sparrow was steadily losing strength from the way she had overestimated her own abilities. She hoped one of the combatants would fall soon.

Yet neither would surrender so easily. A new gambit began, with Jill firing off stunners at random directions every second, filling the whole courtyard with ricochets of red light. Perhaps she hoped to stun Jocasta a moment before she herself was stunned, and leave the final decision to the referees after all.

And yet – still she had enough strength left to toss herself down on the ground and dodge the cage of red beams. And Jocasta had enough left in her to continue transfiguring. Sparrow had to hope that nobody else in the audience would put two and two together. She also had to endure a slight increase in the effort that the shield took to maintain, as it suffered the impacts of dozens of spells at once.

At the end of that attack, there stood Jocasta once more, breathing heavily, enough to make it obvious from a distance. And she was breathing more heavily than Jill, whose time on the ground had allowed her to rest a moment, to regain a slight bit of wind.

Perhaps that was Jill’s real gambit, then. A game of attrition. Jocasta had always won against Jill by winning the game of attrition, because she was deft enough with her dodging and her shields to put as little effort as she needed to in the act of weaving through a hail of fire. And Jill always preferred the use of straightforward overwhelming force over deceit, so she was never able to wear down Jocasta fast enough.

But this time, she had thrown Jocasta off-balance with an overwhelming force from all directions at once, forcing the girl to rely on a more costly strategy from the outset, keeping her on her toes so she would keep clinging to that method, and thereby wear the girl down in minutes instead of hours.

But that depended on keeping her on her toes, which meant a constant barrage. If she paused, it gave Jocasta a second to think.

And Jill let that second pass. So Jocasta was able to take the initiative. She fired a stunner at Jill, who rolled out of the way just in time. Then another, and another. Now Jill was being led into the more costly strategy, unable to rise and suffering the blows of the stone itself as she kept out of the way. Now Jocasta was breathing more easily where Jill was losing ground.

That was, until Jill did not dodge.

Jocasta was forced to dodge this time, for Jill had managed to cast a shield – no larger than a hand, yet placed in just the right spot, at just the right angle. Clearly Jocasta wasn’t expecting it. Nobody was. Jillian Patil, the Roaring Dragon of the Himalayan Mountains, did not cast defensive spells. And yet there it was.

So, Jocasta was forced to dodge by transfiguring again. Which was precisely the moment Jill had been waiting for.

"VENTUS!"

It was not as if a breath stirred outside the shield. But everyone on the outside could see the swirling dust and straw of the courtyard, and they could hear the roar of the wind. They could see it nearly pick up Jill from her supine position. Whatever must have been happening to the poor fly within? Perhaps it was getting dizzy. Whatever the case it was much too dangerous for a fly, so Jocasta appeared out of the air in the next moment.

Which is to say, she appeared in the air. She was hardly weighty enough to avoid being lifted by it. And oh my yes, she did look dizzy.

But Jill was not looking at Jocasta, for she remained facedown, wand up, perhaps believing that would be enough for now. So Jocasta had enough time to recover from the dizziness that she could simply float around in the tornado, firing spells from every direction without having to waste energy on movement.

Of course by that point Jill had realized what was going on and was deflecting everything. My, she had improved her defensive technique quite a bit from the beginning point of having none. And in such a short time.

Sparrow was desperate for one of them to end the fight now. She was beginning to shiver all over with the effort of maintaining her shield. She nearly dropped her wand before Cormac came up by her side and helped her keep her arm steady. And then Violet stood next to her on the other side and put a hand on her shoulder. At that she began to get her second wind.

And at the same time, the whirlwind continued. Why? What was the point, if it was giving Jocasta the advantage? Why would Jill bother to maintain – oh.

Jill had finally learned to anticipate where Jocasta would be. She had dodged one last spell, grabbed the girl by the hand, dragged her close and kissed her hard on the mouth.

Humph. Without even asking. Well, Jocasta clearly didn’t seem to mind. Nor did Sparrow, who let the shield fall at last. Nor did the crowd seem to mind, judging by the whistles.

"FOUL!" yelled one of the referees.

Oh come on now.

The crowd was now grumbling. Some of them were insulting the referee. Neither Jocasta nor Jill looked happy to be hearing this either.

"Illegal use of non-spell effects for dueling purposes," said the referee, a 7th-year Slytherin by the name of Felonius Fimblewinter.

"Seriously?" said Jill.

"Its in the rules," said Jocasta. "Section 9a, as I recall?" She let go of Jill and strode over to the referee. "But my dear Mister Fimblewinter, that kiss did not break the rule as it is written, surely? A kiss is hardly combative. I would say this match has ended in a draw."

Felonius went to consult with the other referees. They discussed the matter for a few seconds. One of them giggled.

"My dear Miss Carrow," said Felonius. "Tell me truly now. Was it a French kiss?"

"Why, um. Yes."

"Then the decision of the referees is that your tongues were battling for dominance, and that it therefore counts as combative. So the fight must begin again."

A peal of laughter went up from the audience. Jocasta turned beet red. Jill’s face was flushed.

Beside Sparrow, Cormac was looking like he was trying to hold in his own laughter, and suffering for it. Sparrow nudged him. That set him off. Meanwhile, Violet had a much more solid poker face. But she also had a bare hint of a smile.

Sparrow wasn’t sure whether to feel like laughing or crying, because it meant she had to raise the damn shield again. She slumped onto Violet’s shoulder and said, "Cormac, can you please go deliver a message to those two?"

So the crowd was forced to endure yet another timeout while Cormac spoke to the combatants. Everyone was getting impatient now. Why wasn’t the shield up? And why was Jill walking towards the bridge? And why was Jocasta walking towards the wall? Were they breaking up or something? Already? No way. And wait a second, was Jill glowing red? And why the hell was Jocasta glowing bright green? Were they both going to explode? Where the hell was the shield? Alright so the two girls were facing each other at a real long distance, maybe they were going to snipe each other with stunners –

In the next instant two streaks of light, one red and one green, had crossed paths in the precise midpoint of the courtyard. Jocasta now stood where Jill had started. Jill now stood where Jocasta had started.

And Jill was holding two wands.

If anyone in the castle was not attending the duel that evening, they may have been close enough to watch the initial proceedings. Or they may have been father away, and wondered where those flashes of light and gouts of fire were coming from. But it would have taken quite a bit of distance from the dueling Courtyard for one to avoid hearing the crowd, as it roared for Jill’s victory. And even those too far to hear a faint hint of the noise might have noticed a slight tremor in the floor.

As for what was occurring in the courtyard, Jocasta had staggered through the crowd and then fallen to her knees before Miranda, just for the sake of dramatic effect. Jill was still standing, barely, because she wanted to keep up appearances, but she did not have much work to do there because there was a crowd of people supporting her. Cormac was in the crowd, hollering with everyone else. Violet had remained by Sparrow’s side, in case the girl started to vomit blood.

And Sparrow decided that it was a perfect time to fall asleep.


	5. Huzzah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sparrow gets a bigger hello than she bargained for.

Morning. Something bright through Sparrow’s closed eyes. Sunlight. And a palm brushing her cheek.

"Mneh?"

"Morning sleepyhead. Three cheers to my brave little barrier witch."

Sparrow leaned her head into Jill’s palm.

"My clever little conflict-resolver."

"G’mornin." Sparrow yawned. "M’valian’…knight of the…giant fireball’n stuff. M' roarin’ dragon."

She slowly opened her eyes.

There sat Jill beside her. She had her legs over the side of the bed, as if she’d just sat down. She also had her school robes on.

And the rest of the room was empty.

If Jill had not been sitting on top of the covers in a way that pinned Sparrow under them, she might have jumped out of them high enough to strike her head on the top of the four-poster. "How many classes have I missed?" said Sparrow. "What time is it? I was supposed to hand in that essay to Slughorn today. Boy am I in trouble. Why didn’t you – "

"Relax," said Jill. "Sleep as much as you need. I told the Headmistress you might need quite a bit more than usual. Remember when you tried to hold up all those rocks at once and then you were out cold until next afternoon?"

"Forgot that part."

"So McGonagall said she’d give you until noon."

"Hmmmmm." Sparrow closed her eyes and nestled closer to Jill. "But what if you stay here next to me all day and I sleep allll day and never want to wake up at all? Does she give me a detention?"

"She tells Madame Pomfrey to make sure you don’t have a serious medical condition after all."

"Oh. Well, phoo."

"It’s ten of the clock now," said Jill. "I was granted as much time as it took to see you wake. But I must be going now."

"Nooooooooo. Stay."

"I _should_ be going now. Oh, but it’s _so_ tempting to sit here in the sunlight with my love."

"Yeah."

"Ah, but there are other people who love you, my dear. Who wish to see you alive again. One in particular." Jill stood up from the bed and strode to the door.

"Well why didn’t she come in then?"

"She said she had limits to her transgressions after all. Something about honor. But I think she would be amused to know that I got you out of bed by telling you she’s in the common room."

This time Sparrow did not leap out of her bed, so much as she threw herself out of it sideways, and had her school robes on before Jill had even finished closing the door. She had her hand on the knob before she halted, brushed herself off, composed her posture, and prepared to step out the door. Thank goodness there would be few students in the common room at this hour. She didn’t want anyone making a fuss over her own actions last night. Such a long speech! She might have stolen all the thunder from that duel if Jill hadn’t added three extra helpings of thunder. But she would have time to compose her thoughts this Friday, instead of dealing with everyone’s reaction.

She opened the door and remembered that today was Saturday.

What looked like every Hufflepuff student was there in the common room, standing on the main floor, standing in front of their doors, standing on the stairs. At Sparrow’s appearance the room erupted with cheers and hollers.

Sparrow’s face felt quite hot as she regained her composure. All this adulation! All for her! Really. What an awful fuss. She hadn’t even told the audience that she had come up with the concept for the match. She had been very careful to avoid revealing that fact, in case she made it sound like it was her evening. She had only wanted to be seen as the introductory speaker.

So, as she descended the stairs with formal poise, and strode to the center of the common room, she spent quite a bit more time getting there than she normally would. She shook many hands, and asked a fair few times why everyone was giving her all this celebration, when she wasn’t even part of the duel. And the answer, as she picked up in bits and pieces, was that everyone came to the match knowing it was Sparrow’s idea. More to the point, she was most certainly part of the duel, because she had been the one protecting everyone else, and, by the authoritative account from Violet Brown, she had effectively been fighting her own quiet battle against her own limits. And then she was out cold before anyone had been able to thank her for anything. So, here it was concentrated on this morning.

Fair enough. No sense dismissing sincere gratitude, especially not from her dear fellow students. Sparrow felt that her evening had been a battle because of her own poor planning, but the result was the same. Everyone lived. Everyone went home happy. Even the vanquished Jocasta Carrow.

She was the reason Sparrow was making a direct path to the center of the common room, for Sparrow had spotted her from the top of the staircase. She had to be there still, yes? Unless she had disappeared once more. But that would have been a mean prank.

It was a little hard to get through everyone who wanted to shake her hand, and Sparrow was anxious to find Jocasta. Jill was easy to find, there she was ten feet away, but where was Jocasta? Well there was Cleo Sassoon, and not hard to spot above the heads of the younger students. She asked Cleo if she could spot the girl anywhere in the crowd. But Cleo only said _Places everyone._

Suddenly there was a corridor in the crowd, two lines of students standing at attention, facing each other, wands raised in high salute to form an arch.

And there at the end, just before a sudden bubble of space, stood Jillian Patil, with a wry grin on her face. She bowed as she stepped aside and gestured to the center of the bubble, as if silently inviting Sparrow to proceed.

And there in the center stood Jocasta Carrow, posture upright, arms held at parade rest, eyes fixed on Sparrow, wearing no expression at all.

Sparrow did not let her own poker face fall, but strode towards Jocasta with deliberate grace, her back held straight, hands clasped in front of her, as if she were a princess at a royal occasion.

Upon reaching her, she took Jocasta’s offered hand, and kissed it. Then she kissed her wrist. Then above her wrist. Then at her elbow. Then above the elbow. And so worked her way upwards, while the students around her murmured in a tone that spoke of something besides dignified chastity. Which was fair enough. Especially when Sparrow stopped at Jocasta’s neck.

"Oh my," said Jocasta. "My suitor is so _dashing_."

Sparrow stood up straight. "Come now, my sweet. You were far more dashing last night."

"Oh!" said Jocasta, putting the back of her hand to her forehead and closing her eyes. "Not dashing enough, I fear. My dear Sparrow, I was _robbed!_ Some glowing red creature _stole_ my wand!"

"Did she give it back?"

"After I wrestled with her a bit, yes."

Sparrow turned to Jill, who was standing at the edge of the ring of students, looking innocent. "Jill, did you – "

"I said a _bit._ " Jocasta rolled her eyes. "I’m not _that_ precocious. Sheesh! You know me well enough."

"Hm." Sparrow turned herself around to stand by Jocasta’s side. "I daresay we will get to know each other much better as time goes on." She beckoned Jill over to stand by Jocasta’s other side. As one, they bowed.

…

By evening the crowd had long since dispersed, which was as much as Sparrow wanted, for she had to deal with a substantial amount of hearty congratulations when she ventured out at lunch.

There by the fire, in his usual chair, with his old ukulele, sat Cormac.

Sparrow took a seat in front of the fire. "I didn’t see you in the crowd this morning."

Cormac shrugged. "I figured you didn’t want me to add any more fuss to your day."

"Boy, it’s like you read my mind or something."

"I know you well enough."

Sparrow was glad that Cormac couldn’t actually read her mind in that moment. "And you know Jill well enough."

"I'd like to think so," said Cormac. "She was hard to approach for the first couple years. I don't know how you did it. Perhaps that is a story for another time?"

"Another time perhaps," said Sparrow. "Not a moonlit night though. As for how you met her – what exactly did you say when you shook her hand, I keep forgetting – "

"I said I admired her for how she protects her friends."

"Oh right," said Sparrow. "And then you said you looked up to her."

"I keep telling you that one wasn't deliberate!"

"Do you look up to me?"

Cormac grinned. "That would require you to stand on a chair."

"Okay," said Sparrow, "that one _was_ deliberate." She grabbed a seat cushion and bopped Cormac's head with it.

"I guess I deserve that one," said Cormac. "But, for what it's worth – I do look up to you in a metaphorical sense as well."

"Oh?"

"Same reason as for Jill. You protect people. Sometimes a little overboard, maybe, but – if you hadn't been practicing for years, well, you couldn't have done what you did last night. It's almost like…records of the Wizarding War make it clear that love is a literal magical force, but none of us see the mechanics. Your shield is almost like a practical and tractable manifestation of that concept."

"Oh," said Sparrow. "You're sure?"

"You were the one who said you loved everyone," said Cormac. "Then you proved it. Do you not believe it of yourself now?"

"I don't know. I'd like to think it's true. But it could just as easily be that the whole business of the shield is just me asserting dominance over everyone."

"That is not what I was referring to," said Cormac.

"What then?"

"You told everyone that you would let them vote about your big plans. You let the majority decide the course of the biggest ambition of your entire life. You let dominance go, in that moment, trusting to the wisdom of the common people. And then you said you trusted them enough that you didn't need to raise your shield that much anymore. _That_ is love."

"Oh," said Sparrow. "Alright. Um. That's a lot to take in."

"Take your time," said Cormac.

For a little while, Sparrow stared at the fire, listened to Cormac's ukulele, and said nothing. It was too difficult to think of what to say. She could be proud of herself for finally doing as she said she would do, not merely to pay lip service to democracy but to get the ball rolling. She could also be terrified. The boulder was rolling down the hill, now. If she tried to stop it – well, she could stop a physical boulder, that was no trouble, but a conceptual one would certainly flatten her. The masses had been informed. They had been promised that their will would be the decider. And yet, what if they learned that they would not be the only ones to decide? Sparrow hadn't actually made it clear that she would be polling the muggle world, because, after all, that part of the plan had to remain a secret. So it was entirely possible that Sparrow would be flattened by the boulder anyway, not for trying to stop it, but simply for trying to run ahead of it.

But she had her friends by her side. All of them, now.

Sparrow turned away from the fire. "Cormac?"

"Hm?" Cormac looked up from his ukulele.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For bringing Jill back."

"I mean, all I did was talk to her. She brought herself back."

"Well thank you for getting that ball rolling, then."

"Not a problem," said Cormac, as he returned his gaze to his ukulele. "I did say that I missed her too."

"And thank you for everything else."

"Everything else?"

"You were there for me when Jill wasn't. You've been here for me in general. You warned me away from a path of revenge. That means a lot to me." Sparrow stood. "You are a good friend."

"Oh!" said Cormac, as he raised his head again to meet Sparrow's eyes. "I would certainly like to think so. Sometimes I do wonder."

"More than that," said Sparrow. "You are my dear friend." She kissed Cormac on the top of his head. "Do not doubt yourself either."

"I will…keep that in mind."

Sparrow sat back down again, this time not in her chair, but in front of Cormac's, with her back to the seat cushion, leaning against Cormac's legs, content to watch the fire burn down, and listen to the Ukulele long into the night.


	6. Fireside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparrow has a couple fireside chats, the second one partly to recover from the first.

The next week was interminable.

For one thing, the mandrake leaf was coming at the end, and Sparrow had to cope with the sheer anticipation.

Furthermore, the specific truth of what Sparrow wanted was being lost amidst wild rumors, despite her magnificent speech. Some were saying that she wanted all wizards to marry a muggle. Well, that one was probably from the Slytherins. Some were saying that she wanted to overthrow the Wizarding government and fling curses over all the earth. Some were saying that she wanted to slaughter all the muggles so that there would only be Wizards left.

Sparrow began to worry that the rumors would get out of hand. Yet, if a speech to half the student body didn’t work, then nothing would. She could only hope that everyone would remember what she said about love, and that she would never do anything that she thought would harm people.

Unfortunately some of the students had now got the idea that Sparrow was romantically attracted to everyone in the school. Which was not aided in any way by the fact that everyone knew she was dating two people. She wasn’t, exactly, not at the moment, not yet, but the terrible thing about rumor is that people who spread rumors are interested in sensational concepts, not mitigating details. So, on top of Sparrow’s anticipation of the mandrake leaf, she had to worry about being buried in love letters once February rolled around.

And it didn’t help that there were still people who wanted to give her a hearty handshake, if they hadn’t had the chance already. Really, now. Didn’t these people have classes to attend?

It was only partly to take her mind off such troubles that Sparrow was diligent when it came to attending practice sessions with Jocasta. She studied hard and paid attention, and learned much, and had quite a bit of fun. And Jocasta has having quite a bit of fun with her.

As a result, they quite forgot to attend to necessary tasks for a few days. It did not take much effort to get the kitchen staff to put Sparrow on a liquid diet, as a rudimentary reference to Sparrow’s madness was enough to get them on board. Some people will drop anything to help solve someone else’s problem, especially someone who arranged such a wonderful duel, talk of the entire kitchen staff, best thing they’d seen in years, please marry my daughter.

Both Sparrow and Jocasta had said "yes" to that request at the same time, mostly as a joke. Hopefully the kitchen staff took it that way.

The worst thing was that, even if Sparrow wanted to confide in the Headmistress, there was little she could explain of why she had been in the kitchens, or indeed much detail at all about her business, which itself might sound suspicious. But, from what Sparrow could see, McGonagall only sounded amused about the incident in the kitchens.

"It is entirely possible the kitchen staff was joking," said Headmistress McGonagall. She sipped her tea. "On the other hand, perhaps you would come to enjoy having yet another pretty young lady for your harem."

The fire in the hearth burned warm, but it was not the fire that was making Sparrow’s face feel hot, nor the tea. "Let’s leave that issue aside for now," she said, and she set her tea down. "Personal matters anyway."

"Ah," said the Headmistress. "If that is what you wish. You prefer to speak of business?"

"That is why I called upon you. I mean – you’re the headmistress and you’re busy and all, with…Headmistress stuff. I don’t know. Administering curriculums and the like."

"Didn’t feel you had the right to ask me for a friendly chat, eh?"

"Not if it would take time out of your paperwork, no. I feel as though I was…impudent, in December. Requesting an audience on short notice."

"And you think I would mind being taken away from my paperwork." She sipped her tea. "Ha! Nobody likes the paperwork, dearie. Not even the adults who design it. Now, what are you here to ask me about?"

"I’m thinking I…might have went a little overboard with the whole dueling thing. Risked people’s lives for a spectacle that I couldn’t actually contain. And all that. Started to arrange the whole thing before actually asking your permission. And then went and…talked about the Statute of Secrecy in front of half the school with a magically amplified voice."

"Oh dearie me," said McGonagall. "You violated one of my strict stipulations." She winked.

"You don’t mind that I did all that?"

"I appreciated seeing a demonstration of the level of skill that two of my students had achieved in their extracurricular activities, as well as a wonderful spectacle, a thrilling narrative, and something to distract the student body from getting up to mischief for at least a few hours."

"But the danger…I mean, I barely contained it."

McGonagall set her tea down. "Miss Jones. How much have you heard about the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Harry Potter got tossed into the competition by accident, completed deadly challenges like a clever duck, and then won the whole thing."

"I mean the first time it was stopped. Back in the 1792."

Sparrow thought back to her History of Magic classes. "Oh, yes. It was because someone died in the tournament."

"No."

"Two people died?"

McGonagall wore a stony expression. "People died during that tournament, yes. As they did in previous tournaments. But I believe it was because the cockatrice attacked the judges. Oh, _then_ they realized things were getting out of hand."

"And then…" Sparrow drummed her fingers on the setee. "They started it up again centuries later…and Harry Potter nearly got killed…and then nearly died again…and got kidnapped by Voldemort…and his friend got killed by Voldemort…alright, so that explains part of why they never did it again."

"Precisely. We’re more squeamish about the deaths of our children now. But, not so much that parents are picky about what goes on around here. And I allow some leeway so that the children learn practical defense in the wild, so to speak. Far more than you do."

Sparrow pursed her lips.

"In the sense that I allow the dueling club to continue its activities. And oh, there have been times when the children have gone too far. Too many injuries. Burns, lacerations, splinchings. I had to get the club to prohibit certain spells, or else Madame Pomfrey might be overwhelmed! She already has to deal with the results of magical accidents on a daily basis."

"Kinda wish I could save people from those too."

"Don’t we all. And yet – here we are, shut up in a castle full of children, giving them all tools of great power…it is not quite like Muggles putting a pack of children in a school and giving them all electric drills, but you can see what I mean about danger being a part of our lives. So, when it came to your little duel, I would say that does not reach the heights of peril I have seen around here."

"Um."

"I imagine you of all people would not find that reassuring."

"Indeed not. I mean I know the heights of peril around here have a pretty high bar to clear, but in non-wartime circumstances – "

"Basilisks in the walls."

"Okay, I know about that one."

"A teacher who had Voldemort hidden in his own Turban."

"Not that it did him any good."

"Death eaters who were able to infiltrate the school through a magical cabinet."

"I’d call that wartime circumstances."

"The time the Ministry sent Dementors to guard the castle."

"They did WHAT?"

The physical substance of the portraits did not rattle in their frames, but the portraits themselves were rather rattled for being shouted awake. McGonagall gave Sparrow a pointed look.

Sparrow felt like she had quite a bit more to add but she thought better of it.

"The worst part is that their parents didn’t even object like they objected to the basilisk. So, you can see the top level of danger the Wizarding world allows its children, and it’s quite a bit higher than you allow. Now that I think of it – Friday’s duel wasn’t even the most dangerous moment in your life here. Unless you met with something worse than all those falling stones?"

Sparrow thought back to the incident with the Forbidden Section of the library. And the incident with the Nark. "No," she said. "Nothing worse than the rocks."

"Moreover – I do not wish to burst your bubble, but Friday’s match was not the most spectacular Wizarding duel I’ve ever seen. A wonderful spectacle, yes. Up there with the professionals. But not the grandest."

Sparrow’s posture shrank slightly as if she was deflating.

"And yet, yes, potentially hazardous to the audience. Thank goodness we had you around, hm? Casting a spell all by herself that usually requires ten Wizards to weave a ward for a week!"

"Ward?" said Sparrow.

"Yes," said McGonagall. "Such a thing could theoretically be done with an actively-maintained shield, but it would carry an extreme risk of killing the caster."

Sparrow put her face in her palm.

"What," said McGonagall, "were you using your regular shield charm?"

Sparrow nodded without taking her palm away from her face

"An active shield charm," said McGonagall, "of such a size, held for that long, against countless blows. My my. You are already above the professionals in skill and endurance! If not foresight. You see what I mean about the risk, then? You're very lucky that you only fainted from exhaustion."

"I’d say I fell asleep before my bedtime," said Sparrow, "but I certainly had a much later lie-in than normal."

"Well." McGonagall sipped her tea. "Thank goodness it happened on a Friday evening, or you might have missed a few classes."

Sparrow raised her face from her hand, to see Professor McGonagall looking perfectly innocent.

"Something wrong, dearie?"

"It’s nothing. Thank you for giving me some perspective regarding the scale of my actions. I am sorry to have taken such a risk to myself. And…in regards to the Statute of Secrecy, I have not made any developments on that front, but I do believe in what I said to the students. That I must gain a real consensus before daring to continue."

"I see." The Headmistress placed her hands on her lap. "Democracy, eh? Well. I wonder if I ought to dare to broach the subject with the Ministry. I might find myself in peril from many sneaking assassins! Or they might find themselves in peril from me."

"That’s one half of the issue," said Sparrow. "The other half is obtaining a consensus from Muggles about whether they’d actually want to have the chance to wield Wizard Magic."

"That would violate the Statute of Secrecy all by itself, now wouldn’t it?"

"Depending on how I worded the question. But yes. It would. I can’t actually _talk_ to muggles about any of this without breaking the law. But if I don’t then ending the age-old Secrecy might be too much for them to handle. But if I keep up the age-old Secrecy then they continue to suffer and die. It’s a terrible dilemma."

"I can’t help you break the law," said McGonagall. "Nor condone illegality."

"I know." Sparrow rose from her seat. "Many questions remain to be asked and answered. If you wish to broach this subject to the Ministry…I have to figure out if I’m ready for whatever deadly force they employ in taking me seriously. I will let you know."

"All in good time," said McGonagall. "Time you were getting to bed anyway." She rose, and escorted Sparrow to the staircase.

As Sparrow descended the stairs, she felt a little ashamed to be keeping the full truth of her plans hidden from a friendly elder. But such plans would have no chance of success without that silence.

Right?

…

The standard four-poster beds of Hogwarts were adequately comfortable. But they did not match the embrace of Jillian Patil for comfort, nor for warmth. At least not in Sparrow’s estimation. She didn’t even need to be in front of the fire to feel warm. All she needed was to be here by Jill’s side, under her mighty arm like a chick under a hen’s wing. She’d feel warm doing that anywhere, even in a cold driving rain.

"Do you feel less queasy now?" said Jill.

"Oh yes." Sparrow let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. "But if I leave? Then I might feel queasy again. I might have to stay here allllllllllll night."

"I do have to sleep eventually."

"Sleep here."

"Tempting. I might get pins and needles in my leg though."

"Carry me to your bed then?"

"Tempting. But I’d feel a lot less awkward doing that if we had a room to ourselves. You know how I am about feeling embarrassed. And Dorm room 7 hasn’t shown up again."

"Aw. You can’t even bring Jocasta to your bed?"

"Sparrow, she’s a Slytherin. What exactly do you think happens if people notice her waking up in a Hufflepuff dormitory bed next to me?"

" _Mrrrowr_."

"Right. So there you go."

There was a small _thump_. Sparrow opened her eyes. Jocasta was standing between them and the fire.

"Hey girl," said Jill. "How did it go?"

"Arm."

"Hm?"

Jocasta grabbed Jill’s left arm and tried to lift it. Jill got the hint and did the work for her. So there were now two chicks under Jill’s wings.

Jocasta snuggled a bit closer to Jill. "I don’t know what to say about it really."

"Was Miranda with you?"

"Wouldn’t have managed it without her."

"Did Professor Longbottom say anything?"

"Not much."

"Did he look angry?"

"No. He didn’t smile with his mouth but I think he was smiling with his eyes."

"Do you feel relieved?"

"I don’t know. Still a little tense. A lot tense. If he blabs about the Animagus potion…I have to hope that he likes Miranda enough to not do that."

"I bet he won’t blab," said Sparrow.

"Can you be certain?" said Jocasta.

"Well, I think if he didn’t look mad and he didn’t look worried…heh. He was part of Dumbledore’s Army. He knows about being a rebel with a cause. I bet he’s enjoying the chance to be Cool again."

"To be Wicked," said Jill. "Miranda would know if we were right. But hey, she recommended him. Did he make any recommendations?"

"Oh yes," said Jocasta. "He said talk to McGonagall."

"Not happening," said Sparrow. "Nope. End of story. Sorry. We’ve aready got one teacher involved. Too many elders spoils the secret plan."

"Might be wise," said Jill.

"She’d make us register," said Sparrow. "That blows the whole plan out of the water."

"Talking of which," said Jill, "Does Longbottom know we’re doing this illegally?"

"Um – "

"Jocasta. Please tell me you didn’t leave out that part."

"He knows we’re doing this on the sly, I told him."

"But he sent you to McGonagall."

"Maybe," said Sparrow, "He’s trying to gently steer us away from an illegal course of action without hurting Miranda’s feelings."

"We have to talk to Miranda about this at some point," said Jill. "I feel a little uneasy getting a Hogwarts teacher involved in something this super goddamn illegal."

"Oh," said Jocasta, "just a little?"

"I could get all cynical," said Sparrow. "I bet Longbottom thinks he’s safe because he controls all the potion ingredients."

"Very cynical," said Jocasta. "And not out of the realm of possibility here."

"Doesn’t make me feel any better though."

"Likewise."

"I might have to really go to bed soon," said Jill.

"Noooooooo," said Sparrow.

"Stayyyyyyyy," said Jocasta.

"Oh," said Jill. "But maybe Sparrow doesn’t _want_ me to stay after the trick I played."

"You got me good," said Sparrow.

"Flawless execution," said Jocasta.

"Were you gonna call Madam Pomfrey though?"

"If you had slept past noon?" said Jill. "Yes. I would have. You’re always up before me, Sparrow. I did have to worry about you slipping into a coma, if you were asleep past the mid-morning."

"Well then." Sparrow snuggled closer to Jill. "If you are so protective, why should you _ever_ leave me now?"

"Because I’ve been sitting on my wand this entire time and I would like to go to my own bed so that I can stop worrying about the stupid thing?"

"But if you stand up," said Sparrow, "then the wand will come flying at me."

"Very well then. Hush now and I will settle that matter."

Jill closed her eyes. For a few minutes she said no words, only breathed deeply, in, out, in. Then she opened her eyes. She gave Sparrow a kiss on her head, and Jocasta a kiss for hers. Then she lifted her arms and let the two girls go, and rose, taking up her wand and departing to her dorm.

Sparrow and Jocasta were left to take comfort in each other’s arms, which they did. They remained there as the logs burned down, down to the last embers.

"Sparrow?"

"Hm?"

"You said you looked really deep into Jill’s eyes."

"Yeah I did."

"And you saw things on fire?"

"Kinda looked like it, yeah."

"And she looked into your eyes."

"Sure did."

"Did she ever tell you what she saw?"

"She never did."

"Ah well." Jocasta snuggled closer to Sparrow. "I think, if I were to look into your eyes, I would see the gleam of bright armor."

"Not very well-worn yet," said Sparrow.

"I don’t know," said Jocasta. "I’d say I’ve tested your mettle thoroughly."

"Physically, magically, yes. But what I might be dragging you into would be far beyond anything we have done to each other."

"I know," said Jocasta.

"If you don’t want to get involved – "

"I do," said Jocasta.

"Even if it be perilous?"

"Hey," said Jocasta. "If facing peril is my choice, it will all be jolly good fun."

"Until someone loses an eye," said Sparrow. "You have to be willing to face dangers that you did not anticipate."

"Been there," said Jocasta.

"So have I," said Sparrow.

"Old wounds?"

"I might ask you about yours. If you are willing to tell me."

"Tell you what," said Jocasta. "I’ll tell you my story when you tell me yours."

"Moonlit night it is," said Sparrow. "Let’s see, who have we got for storytime? Jill, me, Cormac, you, Blaise...and as for Violet – "

"Violet will come if Cormac comes," said Jocasta.

"Oh really," said Sparrow. "What have you observed that I have not?"

"Many things," said Jocasta. "I am a fly on the wall, after all."

"Right," said Sparrow. "Well I was _going_ to say, I already invited her because she’s involved in this business. No sense leaving her out, eh?"

"Are you going to invite Miranda?" said Jocasta.

"Already did," said Sparrow. "It’s her mandrake leaf, after all."

"Marvelous. And as for peril – I have two brave knights by my side now. So now there is little I cannot face."

"Spoken like a true Gryffindor," said Sparrow.

"Let me never say I believe strongly in division between the houses," said Jocasta. "I am in the wrong Common Room, after all. Ah, but I should be getting back to the right one!" She gave Sparrow a quick squeeze, then stood.

Sparrow remained sitting before the fire, but met Jocasta’s gaze. "Goodnight, my dear."

Jocasta nodded her head to Sparrow, then departed. And this time, for once, she did not transfigure herself, but walked slowly to the door.

…

It was almost time for the mandrake leaf. But there was yet another vexing issue to consider that Sparrow didn’t know how to resolve. And that was the weather. The daily and nightly rain. She didn’t know how to clear the skies and ensure a full moon when she needed it.

She wasn’t sure if she should even do so. If there was some spirit on high looking down upon the proceedings and seeing that all the boxes were checked, and that she had done everything properly, why then, they would think that weather manipulation was some kind of cheating, and perhaps turn Sparrow into a newt forever, or turn her skin to stone. It was possible that, if Sparrow were to cry "Ventus" to the heavens and blast a hole in the clouds, it would lead her to ruin.

On the other hand, what gods were there, if any? Magic did not come from beseeching any sort of great spirit, nor, indeed, had Sparrow ever, in her entire life, heard a Wizard make reference to one. Magic came from wands, everyone knew that. You made a wand with wandwood and a magical core and there it was. No ritual necessary. Magic did not come from on high; it came from something on earth, apparently. But what it was, Sparrow could not say.

Did it think? Did it watch? Did it disapprove? Wands thought, in their own way, and felt, if Cormac was to be believed. But they did not produce magic, only channeled it. There was such a thing as wandless magic. It was some force living outside the wand, perhaps outside the body as well, for there were more magical creatures in the world than Wizards. Yet who had thought to ask where it came from?

Sparrow thought back to her previous attempts with the library, and her confusion as to what subject area this question would be found in. She had given up upon hearing that the books of advanced theoretical magic were at the Ministry. Perhaps she had given up too easily. The act of asking a question could just as easily be recorded in the ancient history. Or in the modern history.

So, close to the end of the week, Sparrow spent her lunch hour in the library, cross-checking historical references to magical theory. And she hit a wall again. Not only had a formal effort of Magical Theory arisen recently, thus limiting the amount of time to ask the fundamental questions, it had always been done through the offices of the Department of Mysteries. There were, in fact, plenty of wizards who had been asking such questions. And they were all called Unspeakables, and forbidden to divulge their secrets to outsiders. It was the same wall she had run into as before, only, it extended into the History section as well. The Ministry, it seemed, wanted to limit the power of Wizards. It wanted them to do magic well, but only the magic that it divulged. The fundamental nature of their world, that was off-limits.

Phooey.

Sparrow sat at a table and put her head in her hands.

"Having some trouble with your schoolwork?" said a familiar voice.

Sparrow looked up. Violet was there, with a pile of books in her arms.

"You!" said Sparrow. "I was meaning to ask you – "

"I do have a story of my own to tell," said Violet. "Wouldn't want to miss out on the fun, would I?" She dropped her books on the table. "And I wouldn't want to miss a chance to see family again. Especially since Blaise is family that I can talk about magic to."

"Ah," said Sparrow. "Your story is also painful?"

Violet looked away. "Perhaps." She sat down and opened a large tome. "There is pain in my past. As anyone has, I suppose…but it is not something I can describe fully yet, not even among closest friends."

"Closest!" said Sparrow. "I am honored. But I was not aware that you had many other friends besides our little group of rebels."

"I do not," said Violet. "Cormac was my only friend before this year. Like I said, we all have pain. But it is not for now, because I do not like to think my decision to follow you on this venture is too thoroughly influenced by my personal issues."

"You want it to be perfectly rational, eh?"

"One of us needs to be," said Violet.

"Do you think I am irrational?"

"Hardly," said Violet. "Your decision to gain consensus was perfectly sound from a political standpoint. But you do seem easily overwhelmed by emotion, such as here and now."

"Oh yeah," said Sparrow. "Right. Well. I've been trying to puzzle out the fundamentals of magic as ever, and getting nowhere. Like, where the hell does magic come from? What if there is no God but God after all? Does he care about what anyone is doing?"

"Sounds like you're veering into a different subject than magic," said Violet.

"The two subjects are easy to conflate," said Sparrow. "At the very least, muggle children's tales tend to have magic either coming from divine beings, or administered by them. But for us, well. Dark Wizards tend to get away with their nonsense until the Aurors come calling. It's not like – "

"Not like Faust," said Violet. "Nobody holding us to account for hubris."

"Exactly," said Sparrow. "No devils holding us to the terms of deals. No angels on high seeking out evil to vanquish."

"Oh I don't know," said Violet. "I think Jill would be that sort of person if she didn't have you around to play that role."

"Two flatteries at once!" said Sparrow. "I am impressed. But you see what I'm getting at? Even the creatures we call demons are all corporeal and temporal. Nothing infernal or divine."

"There are spirits," said Violet. "Ghosts, Poltergeists, Caipora, Dementors – "

"Ghosts make no reference to Heaven," said Sparrow. "Nor Dementors to Hell."

"That is because ghosts would rather stay on earth than pass on," said Violet. "They don't want to take that westbound train."

"That what now?" said Sparrow.

"Train?" said Violet. "You never read that part of the history of the Wizarding Wars?"

Sparrow shook her head. "I must have missed that part."

"It's a couple lines in a large book," said Violet. "Potter never gave the place much description. Maybe there was nothing to describe! That's limbo for you. But the castle ghosts know about it, even if they don't want to give me any details. It's the place where you decide if you want to pass on or stay here."

"I feel like I'm in limbo right now," said Sparrow.

"Come on," said Violet. "You're trying to gather the information you need to go forward. That's hardly being stuck."

"Trying and failing!" said Sparrow. "All the good stuff is at the Ministry or checked out."

"Ah yes," said Violet. She pushed her book away, and placed her hands on her lap. "They seek to limit us. Well. They cannot stop us from talking, except perhaps by sneaky magic. So let us get to the matter of spirits. Ghosts make reference to Limbo, poltergeists run around castles and bother people, caipora run around jungles and bother people, Dementors…Dementors run around sad places and bother people very much."

"I wonder what a Dementor would talk about if you asked," said Sparrow. "Maybe feasting on souls?"

"There are no reliable records of Dementors holding conversation," said Violet. "They repeated to the Ministry what Sirius Black had said in his sleep, but as for actually being sapient, that is unclear. Nobody wants to be around them long enough to question them. Quite like another creature I have heard of, which is inscrutable in a similar fashion – "

"Yes yes of course," said Sparrow. "Getting back to the subject! All the spirits we know about seem to arise from the earth, not come down from the heavens. Have you ever read anything that indicates that any creature has ever come down from the divine realms?"

"Little children might believe such a thing of unicorns," said Violet. "But no. No emissaries from Heaven or Hell."

"Then perhaps there is no cosmic scale after all," said Sparrow. "Or at least, nobody administering it. Nobody's watching us besides each other."

Violet raised an eyebrow. "You sound like you are up to something."

"You mean besides everything else we're up to?"

"Touché," said Violet. "But I certainly did not expect you, of all people, to be thinking of doing something that hypothetical gods would frown upon."

"Nothing like that!" said Sparrow. "I'm just trying to see if I can fudge The Rules for a particularly complicated spell. If I can use the Ventus charm to clear clouds away if the night of the full moon is rainy."

"Ah yes," said Violet. "That business. I would say that you might not want to risk any magical energy interfering with whatever moonlight you get."

"Fine," said Sparrow. "Plan D it is then."

"D?"

"Dragons," said Sparrow.

"Great," said Violet. "And all we have to do is get past Filch. Well, we're doing that anyway. I will try to contact Blaise today and let them know we're coming."

"Thank you," said Sparrow. "You are a helpful friend."

"As are you," said Violet.

"I'm trying to be helpful to the world," said Sparrow. "Wait, do you mean personally?"

Violet nodded. She was grinning.

As far as Sparrow knew, Violet did not smile. Except the last time they had all met Blaise, back in October. "How exactly am I helping you?"

"Secret," said Violet.

And through the remainder of their study session, she would say nothing more on the subject.

…

The light of the ghost of Argus Filch shone weakly in the upper corridor. Yet it was the only light on this night at all, for the rain came down, came down, came down.

"Come back to try again?" said Filch. "Came back to tell me I’m in your way?"

"I could just as easily barge through you," said Sparrow. "And lose as many house points as you care to take. I really don’t care about them anymore, I never did. I could have walked right through you at any time, do you know that? But I didn’t."

"I could have raised the alarm when I saw you out of bed."

"But you didn’t. Why was that?"

"Maybe I was having fun," said Filch.

"You were challenging me," said Sparrow. "The first time I ever managed to brew a shrinking potion was when I was thinking of getting past you. I’d never done an invisibility charm either. I’m glad you didn’t raise the alarm. It let me learn a bit more. And I think, in some small way, you respected my efforts."

Filch grunted.

"I wanted to respect your authority," said Sparrow. "Or perhaps I bowed to it. I didn’t even think of barging through you. Maybe if I had, you’d feel even worse than you did now. Maybe you’d feel powerless. That would have been very rude, for me to do."

"Ghosts are cold," said Filch. "Nobody wants to pass through them."

"Well I’d like to get around you someday," said Sparrow. "I do have important business for when the full moon comes back. I would like to be able to see Blaise again."

"Blaise. Well. Hm. Ready for their story, then?"

"Ready for a lot of stories. For mine. For Blaise’s. For Jocasta’s. For Cormac’s. For Jill’s. I feel like a moonlit night at the Dragon tower is the perfect place. And…I’m inviting you, if you will come. Because I want to hear your story as well. Wizards don’t pay attention to house Elves, and they don’t pay attention to Goblins, and they didn’t pay attention to Giants, and they don’t pay attention to Squibs. I figured you might appreciate having a willing ear, for once."

"Goblins," said Filch. "Giants. House Elves. And Squibs, eh? Comparing me to them. Hmph. Well, I might turn up. I might not." He sneered. "I could be really nasty, and prevent you from going at all. I could shout to the castle and say that the madgirl had finally snapped and was attacking portraits, or something. Heh. But if I did that, I’d lose Blaise as a friend."

"Does that mean I can go?"

Filch gave her a penetrating stare. "You’re a Wizard, Jones. You can do what you want. You can always do what you want. And I can’t. Go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow evening."


	7. Old Pain I Endured, New Pain I Accept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settle yourself down, folks, this is a long one.

Tomorrow came.

Miranda had plucked a single Mandrake leaf, and held it cupped in the palm of her hands as she strode through the upper corridor with Sparrow. Cormac had elected to wear his formal robes for the occasion, and had felt silly when Jill had told him he looked overdressed, until Violet elected to wear her formal robes as well. Jocasta had bags under her eyes, for she had not slept all the previous night, instead lying awake in fear and anticipation.

The children made their way down the upper corridor, glancing glumly out the windows, for this night was also rainy. They had been informed by Sparrow that there was a way to clear the air and let the moon shine down, yet she would not tell them what it was, until Jocasta had reminded her of her promise to communicate. And so the children were marching towards the dragon tower, knowing of Sparrow’s plan but not believing very much that it would work. Dragons were not, in any way, obedient creatures. There was a reason they were considered Class XXXXX, “extremely dangerous and untameable”. It was only Sparrow’s skill with a shield that led any of them to believe they would survive the encounter.

There was a ghostly light in the hall. Argus Filch was floating there.

The children waited, wondering what he would do.

“You’re still invited,” said Sparrow. “Will you come?”

“Will I come,” said Argus Filch. “Will I come. To an event. Hm. No student, no teacher, no ghost ever asked me that question. I’ve never had to answer it.”

“So what’s your answer?”

It was for Filch to float through a wall, and out into the rain.

The children continued, having no idea if that was a good or a bad sign.

And so they came to the Dragon Tower, a black shape looming in the gloom.

And there was another shape in the gloom, close to the walkway’s edge. A human figure. An adult.

“Is that Blaise?” said Jocasta.

“Nope,” said Miranda.

“ _Lumos”_ , said the figure. It was, in fact, Professor Longbottom.

“What are you doing out in the rain?” said Violet.

“It keeps me grounded,” said the Professor. “And watered. Oh dear, I must be turning into a plant after all.”

“You wish,” said Miranda. “Did you decide what you were going to recommend for us?”

“No," said the Professor. "I didn’t. It’s all very…enticing, to think of breaking the law in the name of doing Good, but I am old, and harder to lead when it comes to that road. I think I would have a better sense of what I ought to be doing, if I could understand where you are all coming from. So…have I your permission to listen to the stories you would tell?”

“Some of them are quite personal,” said Sparrow. “You would have to swear to their secrecy.”

Professor Longbottom gave a short bow. “I do so swear.”

“Well then. What does everyone else think?”

Of all the children, only Jocasta objected, largely out of principle, for as she said, this entire plan had grown far beyond what she intended.

And so the children came to the door of the Dragon Tower, and knocked.

And waited.

“Cold rain,” said Violet. “Are you sure we can’t do this on another night?”

“The muggle astronomy reports say the full moon is tonight,” said Cormac. “Tomorrow night the moon won’t be full enough. It has to be now. But, that’s assuming the plan works.”

“Shouldn’t be too much trouble,” said Sparrow. “As long as Blaise knows what they’re doing. As long as they’re here. ”

At last the door to the tower creaked open. From within spilled an orange light, and within the doorframe was silhouetted the long cape and pointy hat of the one whom Sparrow had been trying to reach for so long.

“I’ve been waiting to see you again,” said Blaise. “Too long. Filch told me that you thought I wouldn’t show up if it was raining. Is that what he told you?”

Sparrow snorted. “He implied it!”

“A merry jest,” said Jocasta. “But I’m not feeling merry, because the wind is cold and the rain is cold and can we get inside please?”

Blaise stepped aside, and the assembled Wizards entered the tower. As they passed, Sparrow hung behind, until only her and Blaise were left. Then she whispered her plan in Blaise’s ear, and hoped that they would acquiesce, for this was, in fact, the first chance she’d had to speak to them in while.

Blaise, for their part, sounded amused. “To use dragons,” they whispered, “in a manner so scientific. Clever girl. But I cannot guarantee that flame will work as you believe. I will ask them if they have a better idea. Come on.”

Sparrow and Blaise entered the tower.

Its ceiling was lost to view. Its walls were bare stone. If there had been any cloth upon those walls, it had since been burned off, for the stone had enough scorch marks to look like the back wall of a fireplace. And there were dragons, on the high stone balconies, dragons enough to make Sparrow’s head spin as she tried to count them all. It was tricky because they kept flying from one perch to the next. Sparrow had the feeling they were restless after the months of rain.

There were dragons, on the high stone balconies all the way up to a place lost to view, dragons of all shapes and sizes. Black Hebrideans, Sparrow could identify those, and Welsh Greens, sure enough, but what were the ones that were smaller than the Hebrideans, and silver, and rotund? What were the ones that were long and narrow and breathed purple flame? What were the ones with blue scales and golden wings?

Was that a single massive eye in the darkness above?

“Blaise,” said Jocasta. “Have you been experimentally breeding dragons? How naughty.”

Blaise put up their hands. “Not my fault. I had nothing to do with it. Dragons came here to stay and here they breed. Anyway. Come sit by the fire.”

There was a large bonfire in the center of the room. Sparrow peered around it, and discovered to her shock that a large white dragon, with a head the size of a sheep, had been resting here on the floor the entire time. She watched it snore and snort, as if dreaming, and with each snort it breathed a bit of flame. Thus the bonfire was kept lit. Blaise went over to the dragon, tickled it under the chin, and whispered into its ear. It opened one eye, and seemed to grin. Then it went back to sleep again.

Around the fire were arranged logs, as if people were meant to sit here and talk and sing campfire songs.

Miranda sat upon one of the logs. “Nice touch,” she said. “Were you expecting guests at some point?”

“I often have a particular guest,” said Blaise. “My dear Mr. Longbottom, always a pleasure to see you.”

“Likewise,” said the Professor.

“You could have just grabbed him a chair,” said Jocasta.

“I have often thought the same thing,” said the Professor, as he sat down against a wall.

“I wanted something to turn a bare and utilitarian fire into a friendly bonfire,” said Blaise. “I figured logs would work best for that. Even if my only common guests are one solid Professor, one solid student, and one ghost. Ah well. I guess luck favors the prepared. Come on, Mr. Longbottom. Don’t act like an outcast.”

The Professor shrugged, and took a seat beside Miranda.

The rest of the children took their seats around the fire, Sparrow electing to sit closest to the dragon. “Oh goodness,” said Jocasta, scooting over to Sparrow and clinging to her arm, “My brave knight, my one true love, save me from this fearsome beast!”

“Fear not,” said Sparrow. “Fair Maiden, thou art safe with me. Take comfort in mine mighty arms.” She draped an arm around Jocasta.

“Ahem,” said Professor Longbottom. “I imagine there are many stories to tell tonight.”

"There are," said Cormac. "Sparrow, as the one who called us all here tonight, would you be willing to go first?"

“I’m getting cold feet,” said Sparrow.

“So stick them in the fire and talk,” said Jocasta.

“Please,” said Blaise. “We’re here to listen, not to beat out confessions. If Sparrow doesn’t want to go first, then maybe someone else is willing. If no one is, we can still enjoy the fire, and wait for the moon to show its face. Should I go first?”

“I will,” said Jocasta. “It’s kind of my fault we’re here anyway. Well. You might say it’s my father’s fault. But first – I would like to apologize for my previous behavior over the past three and a half years."

"What is this?" said Cormac. "The infamous Jocasta Carrow is sorry for something?"

Jocasta glared at Cormac. "You know very well that I have sworn to cease my childish pranks. Did you think I would have wagered such a thing if I was unable to hold to my part of the bargain?"

"Possibly," said Cormac.

"Do you have reason to doubt my honor as a duelist, then?"

"I have had reason to doubt your honor about everything," said Miranda. "But that was before the duel, and since then I have not seen half as many pranks in the hallways as once I did."

"In this particular case," said Jill, "it was about using a public commitment to better uphold those actions we had already decided upon. For my part, I have no intention of attending the dueling club again."

"But you won!" said Sparrow. "You won twice over!"

"Ahem," said Jocasta. "The first conclusion was a draw, remember? Now, as I said. No more pranks to anyone. In years past I thought little of what effect they were having, but…now Professor Longbottom is here in an awkward position because of my nonsense, Sparrow almost got killed, and even before that she was separated from Jill for weeks."

"I call that one my fault," said Sparrow.

"Oh no you don't," said Jill. "My fault."

"Whatever!" said Jocasta. "The point is, I would like to take this opportunity to explain where I was coming from all those years." She lifted Sparrow’s arm off her shoulder, and stood, gaze fixed upon the fire, the light of the flame dancing in her dark eyes. Her expression was grim, as if all the humor she carried was draining out of her.

"Speak then," said Violet. "How is your dad partially responsible?"

"My father," said Jocasta. "Not my dad. My father. He was never so close as to be a dad. Mother likewise. Not a happy household to be sure, but then, the Pureblood houses that make a big show of being Old Pureblood and Old Money rarely are. In the case of my house, though…I wonder if I could possibly explain what went on there when I was younger. There might not be time."

"We have all night," said Sparrow.

"We have until the moon sets," said Jocasta. She raised her eyes from the fire, and stared at the walls, as if looking far beyond them. "No," she said. "Not enough time. All you need to know right now is that for all he did for me, I do not consider my father a breaker of chains."

"Chains?" said Jill.

"He is Old Money," said Jocasta. "You know how those sorts of people are. They like their chains."

Sparrow coughed in a way that sounded very much like she was saying "house elves".

"And you are not Old Money?" said Cormac.

"I would like to think I am something else here," said Jocasta. "I would _like_ to think this place is all about merit."

"It is until you need to secure a career in the rest of the world," said Violet. "Then it is all connections again. But, continue. Your father is not a breaker of chains?"

"I would not say so," said Jocasta. "Not when he forced me to become an animagus at ten years old."

Everyone in the room gasped.

"Before you had a wand?" said Professor Longbottom. "I thought transfiguration magic depended on having one!"

"Evidently not," said Jocasta.

"But how on earth – "

"Let me speak of my father first," said Jocasta. "Rodolphus Carrow, neé Rosier, who married Hestia Carrow. On one side I am the grandchild of Amycus Carrow. Yes indeed, that man. The man who ruled this school when Voldemort ruled the ministry, the man who used the Cruciartus curse upon students. My father always said the students must have earned it, somehow, but he wouldn’t say how.”

“Neé Rosier?” said Cormac.

“He married into the Carrow family and they weren’t going to let him forget it. They invoked an ancient Wizarding custom where spouses dueled each other and the winner got to keep their surname. He lost, so Carrow he became. As for his own ancestry, well. There was the Rosier family, of course. But here is the important part -- he had been born of a mother who claimed to be descended both from Lisette de Lapin and Morrigan, two different legendary animagi."

"Sure," said Cormac, as he rolled his eyes. "And I'm the descendant of King Arthur, Atilla the Hun, and Rumplestiltskin –"

"Good heavens," said Jill. "I had no idea they were married."

"I mean it doesn't matter!" said Cormac. "Who gives a gosh darn who anyone's ancestor is? I don't like the idea that blood tells anything."

"Ah," said Sparrow. "But we are speaking of magic, and that _does_ appear to be genetic. Or heritable somehow." She folded her arms. "For the time being."

"If I may continue?" said Jocasta. "I do believe that his mother was off her rocker, but it hardly matters, because Father decided that he had a legacy to fulfill, and as a young man he became an animagus. A wolf. He was very proud of that. So – "

"Let me guess," said Cormac. "He did the Old Family Pride thing and decided you would follow in his footsteps in order to uphold the family name?"

"Nor did he listen to my objections," said Jocasta.

"And you followed?" said Professor Longbottom.

"I had to!" said Jocasta. "Have you never been to my house? Don't go to my house. If I'm disobeying the man in charge I'm also running afoul of the things on the walls that whisper my name, and the portraits of old family members that blab on me, and everything in the basement. Ahem. So. I gave in. Not much of a real choice eh?"

"Caught between one bad choice and another," said Violet. "The steps for becoming an animagus are definitely not easy. And for someone of your age…"

"My father did everything in his power to make the process easier," said Jocasta. "He stuck the mandrake leaf under my tongue with a simple little sticking charm, and he brewed the potion himself. The trickiest part was finding dew that had lain in darkness untouched for seven days, but he managed it. And he made sure that the moon shone full and clear in one month and the next by blasting the clouds with wind."

"Ah ha!" said Sparrow. "I didn't need plan D after all."

"Or maybe you do," said Violet. "I still worry that introducing any extra magic will interfere with the process. That might be why Jocasta became a housefly, of all things."

"Please!" said Jocasta. "The animagus form reflects one's personality. I should think being a tiny buzzing insect fits me perfectly."

"Why?" said Violet. "Because you like to annoy people?"

"Because I have been a lowly little worm all my life," said Jocasta. "Always obedient because I had to be. Sooooooo…what do you think happened when I got into a place where my father couldn't see what I was doing?"

"You were a kid in a candy store?" said Cormac.

"An _unsupervised_ child in a candy store," said Jocasta. "Combined with my ability to evade any consquences for my actions…I guess I went completely wild. Didn't care about what I was doing, didn't want to be tied down." She turned her gaze to Sparrow. "So when I heard about this other girl going around spoiling everyone's fun, well. I could hardly let that go unchallenged."

"And she provided quite the challenge," said Jill.

"So did you!" said Jocasta. "At least in the beginning. I never told you why I joined the dueling club, did I? That one time I was about to get Sparrow from behind with a Jinx, and then – "

"I shot a jet of fire at you," said Jill. "The fact that you dodged it is why you're still here. I'm not proud of that moment." She folded her arms and slouched. "And then when Sparrow suggested I join the dueling club to channel that power, you were there that same evening – "

"Ah ha," said Blaise. "It appears you three have had your destinies dancing around each other for quite some time now."

Jill glared at Blaise. "Do _not_ speak of destiny in my presence."

"Long story?" said Blaise.

"I will get to it," said Jill. "But I sense Jocasta has not finished her story."

"Getting there," said Jocasta. "The point is, one of you –" she glance at Sparrow – "might be wondering why I am in on this plan after I pinned them up against a wall and growled at them for the very existence of this plan. I will admit that, in that moment, my decision to acquiesce to the whole business was primarily a matter of tagging along with someone I find attractive."

Sparrow put her palms on her cheeks and pretended to be shocked.

"But there was a reason before and after that," continued Jocasta. "You may have noticed, Sparrow, that I raised no serious objections to your rhetoric over the course of three and a half years, even after it became clear that you were serious about ending the Statute of Secrecy."

"No serious objections?" said Sparrow. "I think you raised one. I seem to recall it involving an unexpected kiss."

"That was an objection to the extra objective you tacked on," said Jocasta. "And yet…if you hadn't come up with that objective, I'd be wondering why, exactly, you wanted to open up our little world. To show the world that magic existed, and then not let muggles in on the game? That would be a trifle selfish."

"Correct me if I am wrong," said Violet, "but being a Slytherin is about being selfish?"

"It is about ambition!" said Jocasta, as she glared at Violet. "It is about ignoring obstacles to personal goals, and taken to extremes ambition means letting all else fall by the wayside, even law, even custom, even friends – then it looks like selfish grasping, from the outside. But I say there is another extreme, and one worth fighting for. I say my house is about breaking chains." Jocasta stood up straight and proud. "I say as a Slytherin that no chain shall hold me." The edges of the flame began to burn green. "Nor shall any chain hold another. Never again. If the only way to free muggles from the misery of their lives is to give them magic, so be it. I will pledge my wand and my honor to Sparrow's service. I am no longer for my own freedom alone."

For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the flames.

"There might be other ways," said Violet. "There are still living things in the world. It might come back if we just let it."

Sparrow glanced at Miranda, who was exchanging glances with Professor Longbottom.

Miranda turned to Violet, and said, "The world has come back from worse."

"That was not on any human timescale," said Violet.

"I am aware," said Miranda. "There are…quicker solutions, with the aid of magic. But messier, and potentially in violation of the Statute of Secrecy. Professor, do you wish to explain?"

"I am not calling your proposal a solution," said Professor Longbottom. "But I will allow you to explain yourself."

Miranda told everyone of the flora and fauna currently being stored beneath the castle.

Violet whistled. "I can see how letting that all out at once could be chaotic. If you wish to have more access to muggle biological treatises, I can try to find extant copies in Inverness."

"And I in London," said Cormac.

Miranda looked intrigued. "You're both into the Muggle Studies then?"

Cormac snorted. "That class always makes me roll my eyes. 'Muggle studies.' Like we're observing an alien species from outer space or something. Ah, but that's part of my story anyway. I'll get to that when it's my turn."

"Part of my story as well," said Violet, "though not in the same fashion as that of Cormac. Miranda, thank you for your explanation, and in conjunction with what Sparrow proposes, your solution may turn out better than you fear. Jocasta, I thank you for your explanation as well."

"Now hang on a second," said Sparrow. "She didn't even get to the part about being registered as an animagus."

"Oh right," said Jocasta. "Didn't fit that into my little speech. Let's say I am registered, and not, depending on the day and upon whether Mr. Fletcher is doing his job."

"Excuse me?" said Violet.

"Fletcher who?" said Jill.

"Old Mundungus," said Jocasta. "Family friend. He erases my name from the register when it comes up, if he can remember to do so. Grandmother Hestia insisted I register myself, so I wrote my name down in the book at the Ministry, and then I erased my name when she wasn't looking, but it came back, so…I had to ask Mr. Fletcher to keep an eye on the page and erase my name when it came up."

"But surely if your father boasted of your success," said Cormac, "everyone at the Ministry would know already – "

"Mr. Fletcher decided to use a lot of memory charms," said Jocasta.

"Oh." Cormac's face suddenly looked grim. "I see."

"How did you get him to do something like that?" said Blaise.

"I didn't," said Jocasta. "Father did. Not sure why. Anyway, _that's_ my life. And I am sorry for what I have done." She stepped back from the fire, and laid a kiss upon Jill's head, then upon Sparrow's. She sat down and put an arm around both. "Does anyone want a big fancy manor full of dark artifacts? Bidding starts at a sickle and goes up by knuts."

“Your father is nuts,” said Cormac.

“Yes, Cormac, I think we established that.”

“Couldn’t resist the pun,” said Cormac. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to make that pun? British Wizards call their smallest coin a “nut” and yet I haven’t been able to find any opportunity to make a good pun with it. It’s been so frustrating, you know?”

“Same,” said Sparrow. “Imagine growing up with pounds and pennies and learning that Wizard coins are called ‘nuts’. It was the greatest day of my life."

"Greater than meeting me?" said Jill.

"Second-greatest," said Sparrow. "But I bet I can use the memory to cast a patronus charm someday anyway. Talking of which, Cormac, you look like you want to go. Finally going to tell me where you picked up on so much about muggle life?"

"Why shore," said Cormac. He stood. "But first – Violet, if you would?"

Violet drew her wand, and with it she tapped Cormac on the head once, twice, thrice –

And suddenly Cormac did not look as cheery as usual. His hair of hearthfire orange turned black, his skin went from pale to tawny, and his face – Sparrow had seen muggle adults with scars, now and then, but never with so many on one face. One over Cormac's eye, one under his other eye, one crossing up to his ear, one from his nose to the corner of his lip, a burn mark, a broken nose –

"Either your childhood play was far more rough-and-tumble than mine," said Jill, with an edge to her voice, "or something terrible happened to you."

Cormac shrugged. "I defend my friends."

"Tell me," said Miranda, "is the Minnesota accent also illusory?"

Jocasta looked confused. "The _what_ accent?"

"Kinda," said Cormac. "Not much different than how we talk in Chicago but I put on extra Midwestern Lilt just to remind myself of where I came from, and it kind of stuck. How'dja know what it was though? You sure don't sound like you're from Minnesota."

Miranda wiggled her eyebrows, and said nothing.

"Right," said Cormac. "Now as to answer Sparrow's question – "

"Wait," said Jill. "I think you broke my girlfriends."

For both Sparrow and Jocasta were sitting transfixed, eyes locked upon Cormac and unblinking. Neither was saying a word, and on Sparrow's part she could think of nothing to say.

She felt a nudge from a familiar elbow. Then, almost without realizing what she was doing, she was up and wrapping Cormac in a fierce embrace.

"Whoa!" said Cormac. "I didn't know you worried about me _that_ much. Jocasta, what are you doing?"

For as Sparrow could see, Jocasta had also rushed up to Cormac, and had her wand in his face.

"Getting rid of those for you," said Jocasta. "Hold still."

"Stop that," said Cormac. He brushed Jocasta's wand aside. "These scars are mine. I got them fair and square."

"From where?" said Sparrow. "Cormac, what in heaven's name happened to you? You look like you jumped in front of a knife a dozen times!"

"Well yeah," said Cormac, "That's about what happened – "

"WHAT?" said Jocasta, Sparrow, and Jill in unison.

"Ah, maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

"You're not doing that again," said Sparrow. "Do you understand? You are not playing the martyr! That's my job!"

"Not that I enjoy the concept," said Jill. "I will say this for my dear, though: she comes out of it with fewer scars than most."

"At least physically," said Cormac.

Jocasta looked as confused as she was angry. "Why do you keep your scars yet hide them? Make up your mind!"

"No," said Cormac. "I don't want to scare people. But I don't want anyone else reacting like you. They might not be polite enough to ask me if healing is what I want. And I don't want to heal these scars. They're memories of what I lost. I don't want to lose anything or anyone anymore. So I keep the scars around for myself. I can have Violet put the illusion back on, if you want."

Jocasta shook her head. "I can't demand – oh, hang it all! Fine! Maybe an illusion will help me forget that one of my friends has suffered terrible injuries that he won't even let me do anything about. I could take care of them in a moment, Miranda could take care of them with a potion, but _no,_ you have to be _proud._ "

"I'm not taking those away from Cormac," said Miranda. "Not unless he asks."

"Forgive me for trying to help," growled Jocasta.

Jill rose from her seat, and took Sparrow and Jocasta by the hands, leading them back to the log. Sparrow sat in Jill's lap. Jocasta sat down heavily with her arms crossed and a scowl upon her face. She barely reacted when Jill put an arm over her shoulder.

Cormac looked apologetic. "I'm sorry for scaring you all."

"I'm just confused," said Professor Longbottom. "I sure didn't see those scars on you when I met you. Who laid the glamour on you before you came here?"

"Granny," said Cormac. "She didn't want me to horrify people either. And she had her pride, I guess…she didn't want folks here in Britain to wonder about the skill level of American Wizards. Called me an idiot plenty of times for taking a blow for someone else. But she meant the good kind of idiot. The Sparrow kind of idiot."

"Hey!" said Sparrow.

"An all-loving folly," said Jill. "You two clearly have something important in common."

"I do what I can for my friends," said Cormac, as he sat back down beside Violet. "Now, to _answer_ _Sparrow's question_ – I am from North America." He leaned forward and put his hands on his knees. An eager gleam was in his eyes. "The McKinnons are supposed to be dead, so I bet y'all're wondering where in tarnation I came from."

"I can't tell what he's saying," whispered Jocasta.

"That's an American accent," whispered Miranda.

"A what accent?"

"American!" said Cormac. "North American. Thing is, the First Wizarding War looks a little funny from that far away. Oldy Voldy never got himself across the pond, did he? He could have run hog-wild in the Americas but I don't even know if he ever left Britain – "

"He did," said Violet, "And yet all his actual efforts were focused on fighting Britain's Ministry of magic, not conquering any weaker Wizarding or Muggle government and setting up a separate base of power. I can't tell if he even had an actual plan besides hammering at the walls of the Ministry of Magic."

"All power and no strategy," said Jill.

"Just like you used to do," said Jocasta. "What changed your mind?"

"I decided I wanted to win instead of just expressing my personal anger. Cormac, can you continue please?"

"You betcha," said Cormac. "I got a lot more to say here. Now. Moldy Voldy never made it across the sea. But a long time ago someone from the McKinnon clan did. And there's been a branch of that family in the Americas ever since, and Voldemort never got 'em. So, that's where I come from. The McKinnons of Chicago."

Jocasta looked curious. "Is that some manner of Wizarding town?"

"Nope!" said Cormac.

"It's a city," said Miranda.

"But," said Jocasta, "is there, like, a hidden Wizarding section within – "

"Nope!" said Cormac.

"What do you mean 'nope'? How does your family keep itself hidden then?"

"We don't," said Cormac.

"Excuse me?"

"Leastaways we do magic wherever and folks just call it a magic trick. And they ain't wrong." Cormac winked. "We just don't tell them the trick, that's all."

"You – you – "

"Think about it," said Cormac. "North America. Real big, right? At least twice the size of Great Britain. Lotta open space, especially the way white folks settled it, ahem hem. If you've got a wand and you want to run off over them hills yonder and do some magic, well, y'all can have a blast, and everyone will think you're just settin' off fireworks. Big place. Used to be people had nice green backyards – "

"Back what?" whispered Jocasta.

"Backmeters," said Miranda. "Americans use yards."

"Darn right we do!" said Cormac. "For barbecues and ball games and whatnot. Leastaways we used to, but they've kind of dried up along with everything else. The hills are all dusty these days, and the corn's long gone, except what we can grow on our side of the river, and the folks from Goose Island take half of what we make anyway, so…food's mostly mussels and cornbread these days, and fish when there's any fish at all."

"Now hang on a moment," said Jill, "if you've got a bunch of Wizards doing magic openly – "

"Magic tricks," said Cormac. "We can't attack Goose Island, not directly, not yet. Last time I was in Chicago Granny still didn't want to. See, old Lady Granya is the matriarch of the McKinnons, which means she's kind of the matriarch of Chicago itself – "

"Oh my goodness," said Jocasta. "You are of a royal family. You are a _prince._ "

"Oh no I'm not!" said Cormac. "America has no kings. Kings are bullies and thieves, like those assholes on Goose Island. Granya doesn't like anyone asserting power over anyone else openly. She's got her charisma, she's got her influences, but if she catches anyone calling her anything that implies she rules without consent, she gets real mad. We've got an elected mayor and everything. He's useless, but we've got him."

"Sounds like he's a figurehead for the real power broker," said Miranda.

"That is perfectly in keeping with Chicago politics," said Cormac. "But we have to at least keep up appearances! Now like I said – our side of the river. Other side…there's shadows there. Shadows in the burnt shells of old buildings. The river is where the fire stopped."

"Fire?" said Jill.

Cormac's smile vanished. "Let me put it this way. North America used to have five hundred and eighty million people."

"The world used to have billions of people," said Sparrow. "I can hardly wrap my head around it."

"And I could hardly wrap my head around that either," said Cormac, "But I could see, you know, all the buildings beyond the river, short and large, and think about how many people it must have taken to use them all. But I still didn't really get it until that one time my granny actually let me cross the DuSable bridge, and took me down Michigan Avenue to the Cultural Arts Center, where apparently a lot of folks had been trying to escape the flames. I saw the pile of bones, where folks had fallen over each other."

"How big was the pile?" said Jocasta.

"The entire floor space," said Cormac. "Every bit of ground covered in bones."

For a moment no one said a word.

"Correct me if I am wrong," said Jocasta, "but there are as many Wizards here at Hogwarts as the number of people represented by that particular charnel house?"

"Quite a bit fewer," said Cormac. "There were enough bones there that I figured they were a hell of a lot more than all the folks who live in Chicago now. And then Granny took me to the Millennium Station, and lifted up one of the melted roof timbers, and there were lots of bones under there too. And then she took me to the Old Republic building – same thing."

"Your entire city is a graveyard?" said Violet.

"One part lived!" said Cormac. "North of the river, west of Michigan Avenue. There's home. The rest, well, it's full of shadows. When we checked out the Old Republic building, there were a lot more shadows on the walls than there should have been, and then they started creeping towards us – "

"Cormac," said Sparrow.

" – and me and Granny high-tailed it out of there. Yes, Sparrow?"

"Don't cross the river again."

"Well I'm not gonna," said Cormac. "I won't be seeing Chicago again for a while. Maybe…maybe not ever."

"What happened?" said Jocasta.

"I'm getting to that, I'm getting to that. See, life in Chicago is pretty hard now even without those shadows. It's like…like, the non-magical folks used to have all kinds of wondrous medicine. Not exactly cheap, but it was good when you could get it. But that was all when those factories were running. These days, we can't even manufacture Aspirin. So, not much in the way of painkillers or antiseptics, beyond your basic bar soap…so no surgery…so…most of what the McKinnon family actually does on any given day is heal folks, real quiet-like, never explaining what we do or letting anyone see. That's the part Granny won't let us do in front of folks."

"Sounds like my kind of family," muttered Jocasta.

"They try to do what they can," said Cormac, "and I always wanted to help them with that. Learn the proper healing spells and whatnot. I learned some of the basics, right after I got my wand and before I was exiled, but…there are some times you just can't save someone in time. A birth goes wrong and you can't get there, someone eats some bad mussels and they don't know until it's too late, someone's kid tries to learn to swim in the lake and gets caught in an undertow, someone falls backward and hits their head right on the concrete and they're already dead. Stuff like that. It's a hard life for most, even without the folks from Goose Island coming down the river in their fancy metal boats to take half our corn."

"You can't quietly sink their boats?" said Jill.

"We'd only be sinking their emissaries," said Cormac. "And then they'd get real mad. And start shooting. We don't want to get that whole nonsense started. Leastaways Granny doesn't. And I didn't…but then Granny made the mistake of sending me to Hogwarts.

"See, she knew about Hogwarts, from her memory of the old days. She used to tell me folks around here do all kinds of wondrous things. Bigger and better than anything anyone could do in Chicago. I guess she was right after all, eh? I wouldn't see whips of fire or giant shields where I come from!"

"Why not?" said Blaise.

"Same reason we don't fight Goose Island openly yet. No supply of wandwood, no talented wandmaker. Not yet, anyway. So the stuff we do is barely above the level of magic tricks – all the good wands we have are inherited, and those are never really as good as having a new one of your own. So – Granny decided to send me off to some folks who were good enough to get me across the sea. She tapped me with her wand, and gave me a disguise to keep me safe from Mother Carey. And then she stole a sailboat from the docks on Goose Island, put me on it, and said goodbye. Then she gave the boat a little tap with her wand and the thing sailed all the way to Milwaukee, where some folks had enough magic to make a key that would carry me all the way to London.

"So I found myself on a train platform, had never seen a train, no idea what to do, suddenly there's this girl with lavender hair standing in front of me telling me about the train and where it was going and I was utterly overwhelmed – "

"I was trying to help," said Violet.

"You did!" said Cormac. "But you didn't let me get a word in edgewise. Which is why I couldn't tell you I didn't have a proper wand and where I had come from until we were already halfway to Hogwarts."

"Wait a second," said Sparrow. "Violet, you knew Cormac was from the Americas all this time and you didn't say anything?"

"You didn't know?" said Violet. "I thought his accent was obvious."

"Not to me!"

"There ain't much connection between here and there these days," said Cormac. "Why I'd never even heard of this here Hogwarts! But there it was, and suddenly I was stuck in the middle of more Wizards than I'd ever seen before, doing bigger magic than I'd ever thought of, and not a single ordinary person. When I asked if there was anyone in the castle who couldn't do magic, everyone looked at me like I was nuts. And everyone started talking about muggles and I was like 'what are those' and then everyone started making fun of me and…that was a very bad day until Sparrow and Jill showed up and chased everyone off."

"Why didn't you tell us you were American?" said Sparrow. "Based on that incident I have spent the past three years thinking you were an extremely sheltered Pureblood from some distant rocky island. Everyone has."

"Besides me," said Miranda.

"Everyone besides Miranda," said Sparrow. "Who didn't bother to say anything. But why didn't you, Cormy?"

"Didn't want to talk about it," said Cormac.

"Even to me?"

"Even to you," said Cormac. "Because you're always around Jill, and Jill is scary, and it took me a while to get over that."

Jill nodded. "That's fair."

"And it was more fun to keep the matter secret anyway," said Cormac. "Hold a secret over everyone's heads while they were making fun of me for my supposed accent. Like, 'Ha ha wouldn't you like to know.' I felt like this place didn't deserve to understand. Because it's really flippin' weird, to me, to come to a place where I can't run around like I'm used to, where I have to go to bed at a specific time – "

"No you don't," said Jocasta.

"Alright, Buzz," said Cormac, "not all of us can spend our nights zipping around la-dee-da. Anyway, the worst part is I have to sit down and pay attention to someone jabber at me for an hour. Hell, if Violet hadn't let me copy her notes the first year my marks would have been awful."

"And you could barely do magic," said Violet, "with a wand that was barely yours."

"Getting to that," said Cormac. "But more importantly that first year was the whole 'muggle' thing. Like, I grow up and some people can do magic and some can't, and the folks that can aren't supposed to reveal the trick, whatever, we're all in the same waterlogged boat anyway right? But I come here and everyone is all 'pureblood this' and 'muggleborn that' and it's like Wizards around here are some kind of ethnicity. I hung onto the Minnesota accent out of spite, and then…well, after a while it kinda became my actual accent, because I couldn't let it go. I couldn't exactly reveal that I'd been laying it on thick the whole time, could I? Not even among close friends. Except now, I guess."

"I don't care about the damn accent," said Sparrow. "I care about the fact that you've got scars all over your face. If you're going to throw yourself into danger – "

"Oh you're one to talk, miss Shield Maiden."

"I can handle it!"

"So can I," said Cormac.

"My burden," said Sparrow. "Not yours. It should never have been yours."

"And you think it ought to be yours?"

"Not hers alone," said Jill.

"True," said Cormac. "I guess we're here for each other, eh?" He grinned, and his hair blinked back into its typical hearthfire-orange.

"You're hair's on fire again," said Violet.

"Well gosh darn," said Cormac. "I guess I don't have to ask you to do as much illusion as before then. Anyway, getting back to the matter – I'm glad that you're all taking this as well as you are, because I know some folks would hear my story and think I'm making things up. And then I think well, I guess maybe the Statute of Secrecy makes sense around here, because it's been around for so long that it's how things work over here, but gosh darn, I sure wish it didn't exist. Maybe some folks wouldn't be so miserable then."

Filch floated through the wall, startling everyone into falling off their seat.

“Oh come off it Longbottom,” said Filch. “You do that every time I enter this way.”

The Professor chuckled. “I figure it’s courteous to act like that for any ghost.”

“I thought you weren’t coming,” said Sparrow, as she picked herself up. “But welcome to the circle of blood traitors. What took you so long?”

“Had to convince the castle ghosts to stay away tonight. I said I’d inform on you for them. Didn’t say if I’d tell ‘em the truth. Heh. Don’t thank me, just doing my job. Anyway, Cormac, you’re right about Wizards and Muggles being two different worlds here. And where does that leave a Squib, eh?”

“Torn apart?” said Cormac.

“Used to be literally.”

Cormac looked puzzled, then horrified.

Filch grinned. “You don’t know what Wizards do to Squibs?”

“I…should expect that they treat them like part of the family. Because that’s what they are. What on earth did – ”

“Later,” said Filch. “Later. Get on with your own story first.”

Cormac shook himself, and said, “Right. There's some real segregationist bullshit going on around this island and I always hated it. And I'm glad Sparrow spoke up about it first so she could take the heat instead of me."

"I'm good at doing that," said Sparrow.

"But by the same token, Sparrow, I did tell you that Wizards are way behind when it comes to actual martial power. That's part of why I stopped talking about the Statute of Secrecy eventually. The other reason, well…Violet, I'm blaming you for getting me a better wand."

"What!" said Violet. "Why me?"

"Because it's more amusing than blaming myself. So Violet takes me to Hogsmeade just before the Christmas Holiday, right, not strictly within the school rules but it's not like my granny was able to sign a permission slip anyway – and we run into old Garrick Ollivander visiting his grandson, and he looks at me like I'm a choice piece of wandwood or something, and he shuffles into Big Beech House, comes out with a wand, shoves it in my face, tells me I'm going to do great things and then, poof, apparates away leaving us both bewildered."

"He was like that for me," said Jill.

"And me," said Sparrow.

"Right," said Cormac. "Well. I spend the holiday with Violet and I manage to do some real strong magic for the first time in my life, not just flipping the coaster over but levitating an entire chair, enough to get the Improper Use of Magic people poking around wondering what I was doing – "

"A pack of nosy nitpickers," said Violet.

"Right," said Cormac. "Well, after that I'm finally doing magic well enough to get passing marks in my class, and I think, well, if I take this wand home I'm gonna give those Goose Islanders what for! And the school year ends, I manage to pay the Ministry enough to get a Port Key home, I land right in the middle of Chicago and it's just a few days before Corn Collection day. So I bide my time, and on the big day I hide myself near the river's edge and wait, and the Big Man's Minions come down the river in their loud motorboats, and I put holes in all their boats like zap zap zap, and suddenly there's a bunch of folks floundering in the water and I'm laughing my head off and blowing my cover.

"And suddenly they're all floating out of the water, and landing safely on the far riverbank, for a given value of safe, and Granny's there behind me looking real tired and real angry, and she says Cormy, you didn't even ask me for permission did you. And I say nope. And she says Cormy, you done messed up this time. And I say Granny, I just did what we should have done a long time ago. And she says Cormy, maybe you ought to stay at Hogwarts from now on. And I say Granny, I'm not leaving my friends, so you can kiss my ass.

"So I find myself back on a boat to Milwaukee before I know what's happening, and then port-keying it back to the train platform, and – "

"And you decided to wander through London looking for my house," said Violet, "instead of waiting on the train platform for help. Or you could have asked a muggle for help. Either sort could have told you Inverness was farther away than you thought."

"It was quite the foolish moment for me," said Cormac. "Maybe I just wanted to see the city, I don't know. Anyway I think I've got to the end of my story. I care about ending segregation here. Really, I do. I worry about muggles dropping bombs on us but – if we can do this all right and justly then I'm in. If y’all want to get into this Animagus business -- ”

“What is 'yall'?” said Jocasta.

“You all,” said Miranda.

“ – Then I’ll follow soon as it looks safe. And sometimes I think the rest of y’all are nuts – ”

“Wait,” said Jocasta, “is that word singular or plural?”

“It’s complicated,” said Miranda. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“What, am I thick as Tewksbery Mustard?”

“ – but y’all’re my kind of nuts. So home is where my friends are, and that's here as well as there. So I do for you like I wanted to do for Chicago. Maybe that means warning y’all away from trying what I wanted to try. But I like the idea of running around asking people instead of just giving them something they don’t want. And if they say no it’s a load off my mind! So I’m in on this whole thing.”

Cormac sat. For a few seconds no one spoke.

“My turn?” said Violet.

“Please,” said Jocasta.

“Alright. Well.” Violet stood, and glanced at Cormac. “I wonder if I ought to make this particular story about me, or about my world."

"You are a part of your world," said Cormac.

"And not uprooted like you," said Violet. "Very well. I will put this way, then." She faced the flames. "I fear that the light of muggle science is dying."

"How do you mean?" said Blaise.

"I mean that I have seen within one side of my family a return to fearful superstition," said Violet. "Tales told around the table and the fireside of beasts in the night, of events not determined on principles of physical law but on divine favor, as if things work not because of principles that can be determined, but purely on the whims of unseen personalities…" Violet folded her arms as if she was cold. "I wish I could explain that aspect of the world to them, and banish their superstitions with reason and truth. But I have always felt cut off from that half of my family. Unable to tell them the truth of anything.

"For my family is the Browns. Not a new name like Jones, nor an auspicious old name like the McKinnons or the Carrows – "

"I would not call my family's name auspicious," said Jocasta. "Not after the Wizarding War."

"Still," said Violet. "Brown's a pretty plain name. Not pureblood, just mixed, like the Patils are now. Jill, tell me – how much about Wizardry are you allowed to tell the muggle side of your family?"

"Zilch," said Jill.

"Likewise," said Blaise. "The Brown Household is…let's say there's always a dragon in the room whenever Mother's side of the family visits."

"And even when they do not," said Violet. " If I want to be able to do magic in the Brown household, I cannot. The Ministry shows up like _POOF_ 'naughty naughty naughty!' _POOF._ A pack of meddling spoilsports, in good years, but…it's not good years, is it? I don't really know what it's like in London, but in Inverness the food supply for muggles depends on fish out of a sea that's damn near empty, and potatoes, and little else. If either me or my father wants to magic up something nice for the rest of the family, we can't make it too unusual or too often, and we can't tell anyone where it came from.

"And if I want half of my family to be able to know the truth of why Great-Aunt Lavender died, ah, well, I can't talk about that when they're over either, can I? So, where Cormac might feel stretched thin over in Chicago, I feel squashed short. There have been…aspects of magic that take years to perfect, and I have been desperate to practice them during the summer holidays, so as not to waste any time. But I am forbidden to practice! And I am not a brilliant Wizard like Jocasta or Sparrow – "

"Hey now," said Sparrow. "There's only one spell I can do well."

"And your invention of a spell to toss Jocasta into the air was a fluke?"

Sparrow blinked. She knew how difficult it was to invent a spell, but the events of that evening had put the matter out of her mind.

"That is a discussion for later," said Violet. "None of us can dispute that Jocasta is brilliant."

"Indeed not," said Jocasta as she preened.

"And I am not at her level – "

"What do you mean you're not at her level?" said Cormac. "You know more spells than anyone!"

"Because I study all the time," said Violet. "That does not mean I can do all of them well."

"But it means you have your own area of expertise," said Sparrow. "Just not in anything flashy. You were the one who showed me how to do my research properly. I think if comes down to searching through massive library stacks, I'd pick you over anyone else."

Violet's face flushed. "That's…whatever. Back to the main subject. During the summer holidays I attempt to study whatever scientific treatises I can find in Muggle archives. Which is not very many. In Inverness, at least, most of the paper records are in a terrible state of disrepair. And the situation in London would require swimming lessons, because the British Museum couldn't exactly get out of the way. I don't know about anywhere else – "

"The Bodleian Library is still standing," said Cormac. "I was able to get inside once. It doesn't look as bad as what you get in Inverness."

"Then that is our next target. As for Inverness – guess what I wasn't allowed to do with the records?"

"Cast a repairing charm?" said Cormac.

"Cast a repairing charm!" said Violet, as she threw up her hands. "I have seen documents crumble in my hands, and I was bound by the law to let them!"

"No you weren't," said Jocasta.

Violet took in a deep breath, and closed her eyes.

Sparrow braced herself for when Violet opened her eyes.

But they were the same color as ever. Violet let out a long breath, and said, "Fine. Let me be more accurate. I was bound by the threat of ministry-administered violence to let the documents crumble before my eyes. Do you find that description _satisfactory?_ "

"Well," said Jocasta, "Technically it's only possible to command someone with the imperius curse but – "

Violet scowled, and Jocasta stopped talking.

"The point is," said Violet, "if I am unable to save these documents, how can Muggles? And it's not like they even bother, because everyone's busy surviving. I see the light of muggle science dying. Knowledge not passed on because it offers no help in the moment, technology discarded because none can discern its use – Cormac, can your people make stainless steel anymore? Can they even make steel at all?"

Cormac raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, _can_ you?"

"Sorry," said Violet. "I mean, can anyone in Chicago make stainless steel?"

"Never seen anyone do it," said Cormac. "That's something involving chrome, right?"

"Chromium," said Violet. "Yes."

"Where in the Sam Hill would anyone in Chicago get Chromium?" said Cormac. "Maybe the folks on Goose Island have contacts, but Chicago's kind of cut off from trade routes right now, at least overland. Nobody wants to deal with the man who walks behind the rows."

"What rows?" said Violet.

"Never mind," said Cormac. "Keep going."

"Well there it is," said Violet. "Trade routes are at a low ebb right now. That was what killed Rome, after AD 500. The loss of its grain shipments. The city's population shrunk to what the land immediately surrounding it could supply. In the Early Middle Ages, that was still enough for tens of thousands…but for us, in Inverness? Not so much. We live and die by our terrace farms.

"I would like to think muggles could pick themselves up again from this sort of misery. I would like to think they could be clever, and devise means of survival, and come out of these dark ages like a phoenix out of the ashes. And yet…if I have to see everyone around me getting superstitious, I fear that they will hold each other down, tell each other innovation is dangerous, that seeking knowledge and wisdom is what led the world to ruin – they are already suspicious of me."

"For what?" said Cormac.

"For seeking truth!" said Violet. "For trying to understand basic scientific principles! Half of my family calls it forbidden knowledge! How can I save them from the dark road they go down, when I cannot ask them the questions I must ask? How can I confide in them, when I cannot show them anything about technology I have studied for years?"

"Technology?" said Blaise. "You've been studying something on the side?"

"Something about ancient runes," said Cormac. "She never tells me what that's about, though."

"Not that," said Violet. "Just, wandwork in general."

"Excuse me?" said Professor Longbottom. "I've never heard anyone describe Wizardry as technology."

"But that's how we treat it," said Violet, "right? We have treatises on the nature of various spellwork, and experimental charms, and Unspeakables studying things so deeply that they're probably getting to the heart of the matter. The scientific method is just a matter of repeated testing and controlling all possible variables. If the people in the Experimental Charms department are using that method then I would say that they are, in fact, doing Science."

"I certainly haven't ever heard of any sort of advancement in human knowledge out of the Ministry of Magic these days," said Cormac.

"Exactly," said Violet. "Muggles had their apocalypse, Wizards nearly had theirs with Voldemort, and suddenly everyone is like 'oh I guess it was the secrets we uncovered that were the problem,' because that's easier to blame than the massive political failures involved in the past sixty years. So the Ministry steals all the books of Magical theory from this castle, crippling one of the two great libraries of Wizarding Britain. For what? Preventing any of us from posing a threat?" Violet's eyes flashed a brilliant purple. "Like that worked! Here comes Sparrow Jones, whom the very world could not move, who tosses ideas to the ether that still threaten to upend everything, and you know what, at this point I'm glad to have her around, because otherwise I would have no patience whatsoever, and I would be marching right down to the Ministry to take the books back myself." Violet's eyes stopped glowing. "Why are you all looking at me like that? And why does everything look yellowish?"

Jill and Sparrow exchanged glances. Then Jill stood, and wrapped Violet in a fierce hug.

"Whoa!" said Violet. "That's a little too much physical contact there, my friend."

Jill released Violet, but kept her hands on Violet's arms. "Sorry," she said, "I figured if I held you tight enough I might be able to stop you from exploding."

"Spontaneous human combustion is not spontaneous," said Violet. "It's just old people falling sleep by the fire and having their clothing catch light."

"Not what I'm talking about," said Jill. "This is magic business. You're another leaking container here."

Violet raised an eyebrow. "I'm a barrel of toxic waste, is that it?"

"No, I – what?"

"Never mind," said Violet. She sat down close to Cormac. "I do have a lot on my mind. I guess…Jocasta has her concept of freedom as viewed through the perspective of personal ambition, and Cormac has his concept of freedom as seen from the perspective of personal liberty. When I consider muggle science, I see freedom there – a freedom we never really did achieve. We never reached the stars. If muggles are able to actually get off this rock again, and go where they will, then none of us ever need fear a world like the one we're all stuck in."

"So what," said Sparrow, "we enchant our brooms to speed us to distant galaxies?"

"No!" said Violet. "No, there lies the dilemma. What you have proposed with giving magic to everyone runs the risk of muggle electrical technology being snuffed out entirely in favor of everyone being satisfied, and then we will never reach the stars at all."

"Oh," said Sparrow. "Yes, I have been warned about that matter. But high concentrations of magic interfere with electricity – "

"More's the pity," said Cormac. "It's almost as if magic's tendency to ignore the laws of physics cause it to shove subatomic particles aside."

"Subawhat?" said Jocasta.

"You really need to pay attention in muggle studies class," said Cormac.

"No I don't."

"They will not interfere," said Violet. "Not if I have anything to say about it. If I come with you down this road, I will to figure out how to get magic to stop shoving electricity out of the way. The things that muggles invented, the secrets of the universe that they discovered, these are not worth losing. I will not let them be lost. Do you understand?"

Sparrow nodded.

"Good." Violet nodded her head towards Cormac. "My friend here asks that we do all of this right and justly. Now you know what I think right and justice is. And I have said all I will. Who will speak now?"

Cormac coughed.

"You already spoke," said Jocasta.

"Just wanted to offer a bit of warning," said Cormac. "What I know of muggle governments is that they are trying to reclaim some of the weapons materials of old, so they can make the same mistake again. We must remember that knowledge is not wisdom."

"I will concede that point," said Violet. But she did not look happy.

"Question," said Miranda. "What manner of spellwork did you wish to practice over the summer anyway?"

"Human transmutation," said Violet.

Jocasta had been staring at the white dragon, but upon hearing Violet's answer her head whipped around to stare at the girl.

"What?" said Violet.

"You think I'm a brilliant transfiguration witch and you don't even ask me for help?"

"Not with this topic!" said Violet. "Transmutation is a step up from transfiguration as it is, and with human transmutation you can afford even fewer mistakes than with human transfiguration. And no, I will not offer any more details about my goals, thank you very much. Blaise, you go."

"I do not wish to tell my story just yet," said Blaise, "but I have a question to ask. Why did you set the curtains on fire that one time?"

"I keep telling you it was an accident," said Violet.

"But do you think it was related to – "

"Yes," said Violet, "and never mind. Now who wants to go next? Jill, do you have a story?"

“I wouldn’t call it a story,” said Jill. “More like an explanation for my fury. I’ve been hurt, a lot. And…if were were going to work with muggles like Violet says, I’d prefer we talk to everyone _besides_ the people in charge, because I've had bad experiences with people who are supposed to be in charge. So, to begin with, understand one thing.”

She stood, and stared at the flames. The light of the fire danced in her eyes.

“I burn.”

The flames grew higher.

"Consider that my family includes Parvati Patil, one of the greatest seers of the age, one who surpassed Sybil Trelawney in skill, who finally managed to make seeing into the future slightly more reliable and respectable, which is part of how Wizarding Britain was forewarned of the Year of Fire."

"And muggles weren't forewarned?" said Jocasta.

"I am not finished talking," said Jill. "Now, think about that. Parvati Patil was my great-aunt. So of course she does fortunes for family members, including me, and nobody would dare gainsay her predictions! So when she warned me about myself…how could I possibly have objected?

"All I could do was resolve to avoid prophecy at all costs. I wonder if it was that moment that I decided to serve the cause of justice, or if Auntie's premonition was a confirmation of an inclination that I already had? I've always been pretty keen on the distinction between right and wrong. Sometimes I still have trouble understanding the idea of a grey area. I am flabbergasted by those who would see injustice happening, and continue to let it happen.

"So, my ability to handle a particular situation involving injustice towards me was…not as nuanced as it should have been. This was at a public grammar school in London. Not all of you may be familiar with that mode of schooling, but it closely resembles the primary schools of old, complete with children being taught how to behave, which is precisely why my parents sent me there. They probably wanted me to learn how to sit down and shut up.

"So I learned the rules of the place, and tried to follow them to the best of my ability, and yet…there was a girl in Fourth Form who followed those same rules, and yet, she demonstrated that those rules were not enough, because she took every opportunity to do the sort of things to me that children do before they learn how to play nice. Pulling hair, tripping me, stealing my belongings. It had to have been deliberate, in the way a toddler’s cruelty isn’t.

“I put up with it for a year, trying not to lash out at her. But it was getting worse. She was clever. She would frame me for certain things like breaking windows. My reputation at the school was suffering. And when I would try to enlist the aid of a teacher, she would say that the situation was my fault.

“And they believed her. Because in front of them, in front of almost everyone, she was a sweet little angel who never did anything wrong. They turned their backs and her claws came out. Every time. I think she had a lot of fun tormenting me. I think that was the point.

"I had a difficult time putting up with this. I was too young to fully understand how this girl thought it was permissible to break the rules, nor why she thought that cruelty was acceptable. And at the same time that I was confused on a daily basis, my reputation at school suffered, for the other students were turning on me, and the teachers were reporting my behavior to my parents in the way that this particular girl was framing me. So my parents started discussing pulling me out of school, because it obviously wasn't working like it was supposed to. And I would have gladly left –

"But for Benjamin. The one lad who stood up for me. Benjamin Grey. For him I would not leave, and I like to think that he would not leave either, for my sake. Certainly he did not leave my side, when he had a chance to stay by me. He was, now that I think about it, nearly as fierce in my defense as I was in his. Once we started to stick together, the scorn from other children ceased, and the teachers started to comment on my improved attitude.

"And then that awful girl tried to frame Benjamin for someone else's accidental injury, and that was the last day she did so, because I knocked her clear across the courtyard. It was the first magic I’d ever done, and I was…terrified. But I was thrilled. And I turned to the other students…and all of them, even Benjy, shied away from me.

“The girl herself hit a tree branch. She suffered some fractured ribs, a concussion, a lost tooth, a sprained ankle, and she probably has mental scars to this day.

“I was pulled out of school. Well. I was expelled. But Grandmother Padma elected to tutor me in my remaining years before entering Hogwarts. And she kept me cooped up at home. I was quite a bit put out, over being confined, but then, for her it made sense to avoid letting a little firecracker out into the world. I had already suffered quite the stern lecture from the Ministry until Grandmother assured them she had things under control. Still, I’ve resented my grandmother since then, and my parents, to a certain extent, for putting me in that school.

"I would like to think that I hardened my resolve to keep myself under control. And yet – if I am also sworn to let no injustice in my sight go unanswered, the two desires could have been difficult to reconcile. It would be very easy for me to react to evil deeds by letting all control go, and cutting loose with a whirlwind of fire. But I know that if I do, then I would find myself hurting innocent people in the crossfire, as I did, in a way, to Benjy.

"So I keep myself under control, and though I know of so much injustice in this world, and so much that has gone answered, I hold myself together, for now. When I said I burn, I do not speak lightly."

Jill stepped forward and stood in the middle of the bonfire.

"Jill!" said Sparrow, as she started forward. "What on earth – " but she was stopped by Jocasta's hand. "Jocasta, what are you doing!"

"Look," said Jocasta. She pointed to the fire.

There stood Jill, at the center of the flames, and though they leapt up high around her, she was not moving. Her robes remained as her skin – whole and unblemished. Though the smoke was on her face, she breathed easy, and her eyes were open.

"An old magical parlor trick," said Miranda.

"I don't see a wand in her hand," said Violet.

"Fire cannot kill a dragon," said Blaise. They stepped forward, and reached through the flames to take Jill's hand, without appearing to notice the heat at all. "There is a furnace in you after all, girl. How have you held it in this long?"

"Let me put it this way." Jill turned to gaze at Sparrow. "Once upon a time, I thought of the incident with that awful girl as my happiest memory, and thought that I might use it to cast a patronus someday. But then I met Sparrow, and…I have much happier memories now. I have someone who shares my convictions. So long as you are here, Sparrow, I need not take the burden of justice upon my shoulders alone. I think if you had not been here, I would have remained as I was in the first half of First Year, and become a tiny tyrant of the school."

"Tiny nothing," said Jocasta.

Jill turned to Jocasta. "And as for you, my dear, you provided something besides a dueling rival."

"A safe outlet for your fire," said Jocasta. "Someone who you would be willing to fight against, instead of a best friend you would never dare offend."

"There is that," said Jill. "But more than that – a source of mischief."

"Excuse me?" said Jocasta. "Miss Law And Order is thanking me for pulling pranks? Make up your damn mind!"

"I asked you to stop because you took them too far," said Jill. "You finally got someone actually hurt. Before that point, you had never actually caused anyone lasting harm. Never framed anyone, never shown any real malice. Always acting for your own freedom, yet never really trampling upon the freedom of other people – that can be difficult, sometimes, when everyone thinks freedom is a zero-sum game. But you managed it. You added a bit of spice to everyone's life. I was finally able to see a path out of the rule-bound mindest I had placed myself in for so many years."

She stepped out of the flames, and sat down between Sparrow and Jocasta.

Jocasta wrinkled her nose. "My dear – "

"Yes?" said Jill and Sparrow at the same time.

"Tall dear," said Jocasta. "My tallest dear, I think you should hesitate before you go dancing in fireplaces again."

Jill nodded. "I wouldn't want to scare people, unless I mean to."

"No no," said Jocasta. "I mean you reek of wood smoke."

"Yeah you do," said Sparrow.

"Ah," said Jill. "Well then." She put her arms over Sparrow and Jocasta, and drew them close to her side. "Clearly I need both of you, just to keep me from doing anything rash. I can't say I'm proud of needing anyone, and I don't like the idea of being dependent. But I can't deny my situation."

Jocasta coughed. "Seems like a win-win for both of us, barring the stench. We keep you sane, and we get to have all of you, which is quite a bit." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"But tell me," said Sparrow, "If you were to go kaboom – "

"I would melt the very stone around me," said Jill. "When I said you never wanted to see my all, I was not joking."

“You gave it your pretty damn best at your last duel,” said Professor Longbottom.

“Best, yes. That was because I was controlling where my energy would go. If I don’t, it just goes up. When was the last time _you_ saw a volcano?”

“Never,” he said, “but…when did you?”

“Bad memories,” said Jill.

“Any deaths?”

“Not yet. I will admit, there are very many people I have heard of in this world who I would like to incinerate. Crimes of long ago unanswered, machinations that need a wrench in the gears. If I ever come to Cormac's Chicago, I will be sorely tempted to make his attack on Goose Island look like a weak little candle compared to mine."

"Please don't," said Cormac.

"I know there are also many innocents on Goose Island," said Jill. "I do not wish to be like the muggles who came up with indiscriminate bombing of cities. It was one of the worst crimes muggles have ever committed. But there many be some day when the forces of Wizarding governments oppose us, and then, oh – then I will not flinch. Not after what I have heard of Cormac's story, not after I have seen Violet's pain visible in her eyes. Then you will see my all.

"But I hope such a day will never come. I hope that there is always another option besides employing my expertise. If you need me, I will be there, as Benjamin was for me, but for now I will keep the door of my furnace closed, lest any innocent come to harm on my account. I do not wish to be the sort of person who, in their utter moral righteousness, decides that a whole world has to be violently forced to change. Tens of millions, hundreds of millions of people have been killed that way. There’s plenty of people who did awful things to uncountable people because they thought it was for the greater good.

“What I will be, though, is precise. I will be unflinching, and ruthless. I will be the sword. Sparrow, do not feel that you need to cast curses of any kind. Leave that to me. I’m the bad cop, not you. Are we in agreement?”

"You might want to re-phrase that," said Miranda, "considering that we're going to be overturning both law and order here."

"We?"

"A given value of we," said Miranda.

"I still can’t say that I understand," said Jill. "But fine, no cops. How about Sparrow is the carrot and I am the stick?"

"More like a club," said Jocasta.

"It is a cynical way of framing it," said Sparrow. "It is amusing to think of bashing everything down, and yet if we do that, we're just imposing our version of order on the world, aren't we? I have taken the road of the Animagus for the sake of doing this with all gentleness possible. If you follow me down that path, you must keep that in mind."

"Always," said Jill. "And with that, I have said all I can here."

"Wait," said Cormac. "Jill, what exactly did your great-aunt Parvati say about you?"

Jill cleared her throat. "I have said all I can here."

The flames subsided, lower than they had been. Jill had used up quite a bit of the fuel.

“Ok,” said Sparrow, “who have we left out. Miranda?” She turned to the girl who was still holding a mandrake leaf in her hand. “Got any sad stories to confess?”

Miranda exchanged glances with Professor Longbottom.

“No,” said Miranda. “I am your ally in the struggle against the Statute of Secrecy, and having been privy to so many painful stories, I am sorry that I cannot repay you with my own. But I have no desire to go into details about myself at this time. Blaise, why don’t you tell everyone your story?”

"Ah yes," said Blaise. "Yes, I suppose you all deserve to understand why I am here, in this tower, and what exactly I get up to."

"I have been a little curious," said Miranda, "based on the scanty descriptions Jocasta has given me. And, you know, the uncountable number of dragons over our heads. Although I might have felt better asking Violet than having to sit in here."

"You would have got nothing out of me," said Violet. "I am nearly as ignorant as you – "

"You?" said Miranda. "Ignorant of anything?"

"I can hardly study my sibling if they don't let me! In that subject I only know the past, not the present."

"Dragons are a delicate subject," said Blaise. "As I have been. In the case of dragons, they remain classified as extremely dangerous creatures, not to be approached under most circumstances, with heavy legal penalties for keeping them, and never mind their sentience or sapience. As for me, ah, well…how dismayed anyone would be, if they understood that the gift they thought they were giving me had caused me to refuse the study of magic."

"For which I have never forgiven you," said Violet.

"What gift?" said Sparrow.

Blaise glanced at Sparrow, then at Violet. "Think of it this way. You see me with a foot in the world of Wizards and a foot in the world of Dragons. I have always enjoyed dancing over supposedly solid boundaries, back and forth, going where I am not meant to go."

They stepped forward into the fire, then through it. Filch snorted in derision, but Blaise paid no heed as they continued. "Call me the epitome of a Gryffindor, then, the flower of my House. Never fearing to go where I must. But the matter of staying _on_ the border, well, that is a thing some people cannot quite understand.

"I did not expect this, when I came to Hogwarts. I had come from a household where my inclination to stay halfway between male and female was something taken for granted. Neither mum, nor dad, nor Violet, nor Scarlet, ever made much bones of the subject. To the Brown family, I am the middling child, and middling in all things."

“Wait,” said Jocasta. “Scarlet, Violet, Blaise. That last one doesn’t fit the theme. What happened to your family's naming scheme?"

"Up in dragonfire," said Blaise, "and I would consider the name I chose to be perfectly thematic." They grinned.

"So what was your name before – "

"Irrelevant," said Violet and Miranda at the same time.

"Please," said Blaise. "You need not defend me so fiercely. I have dragons for that now."

Jocasta's face fell, as she looked up.

Blaise chuckled. "I jest. Mostly. But it is true, I could have used some manner of defense, some fellow student in my corner, there in the Gryffindor common room – ah, but it happened too fast, didn't it? And I did not even know what was happening, until a particular seventh-year was explaining to me that they had just given me what I desired, and that out of gratitude, someday I would be as skilled with human transmutation as they were."

"What exactly happened?" said Miranda.

"They had done a bit of human transmutation on me," said Blaise, "and changed my sex to what they thought I was going for."

Miranda's eyes started to glow blue.

"That is an appropriate reaction," said Blaise, "and I wish I had been able to make myself clear in that moment. I couldn't get the seventh-year to change me back, nor did anyone else around me have the skill to reverse the effects. Nor did they seem to understand why I would want such a thing. So I had to feel odd and awful for the whole time that I was dealing with my belongings, and then go all the way to the Hospital Wing through a castle I hadn't learned how to navigate, and beg Madame Abbot to change me back, which meant I had to explain the whole thing over again, and then endure human transmutation again…oh, it was such a mess of an evening."

"But nothing like that ever happened again," said Violet. "Correct?"

"Nothing like that again," said Blaise. "Human transfiguration beyond superficial details is tricky enough that even bold Gryffindors don't usually try it, and human transmutation is nearly as tricky as healing bones. Nobody besides that one seventh-year could have repeated the incident. But once was enough. I learned the wrong lesson about the value of magic – "

"What value?" said Filch.

"Exactly," said Blaise. "I barely bothered to study at all."

"I still don’t understand," said Violet.

"I was eleven years old," said Blaise, "without a friend in my corner. I had no way to mentally process such an incident except by rejecting its supposed source. I do wonder if that is the source of so many of the personal convictions I have heard tonight."

"Wouldn't surprise me," said Cormac. "It sounds like we've all been through some real shit."

"And at such a young age," said Blaise. "Thus your responses to trauma sound highly reactive. Ah, but that is the way of the world these days, when the land is hard and empty. I do not know of any muggle children who grow up happy as they used to."

"How would you know?" said Jocasta. "You're shut up in this tower."

"Getting there," said Blaise. "So as I said, I barely bothered to study magic during the first semester, and my marks were nearly low enough to get me thrown out – "

"But you passed the first-year-exam," said Filch. "Why'd you want to hang around me so much if you were going to be a good little Wizard after all?"

"Please!" said Blaise. "It was by a tiny margin."

"The first year exam is extremely difficult to fail," said Violet. "You practically have to be trying to fail it."

"As I attempted," said Blaise.

Violet spluttered in shock.

"And this is why I never told you," said Blaise. "I have always been ashamed of my recalcitrance. I knew you, of all people, would have a hard time dealing with the full truth."

"I just thought you were…lazy and incompetent." Violet hung her head. "I wish I had been there for you, in your first year. I wish I had known. But you couldn't tell me because you thought I wouldn't get it, so I wound up pushing you away for your entire time at Hogwarts…"

"One rash decision after another on my part," said Blaise. "I rejected the help that would have saved my heart from scars. But I do not consider myself broken." They met Filch's gaze. "I was lucky to have a friend whom I could call a safe place."

Filch pointed at himself, and looked surprised.

Blaise nodded.

"Come off it," said Filch. "Nobody's a safe place. I wasn't. I didn't want to be. I was the grouchy old caretaker. Did all those insults mean nothing to you?"

“They did,” said Blaise. “But no matter how many times I sat in your office and read old books, you never cast spells at me. So I felt safe around you.”

“I couldn’t cast spells. You were taking advantage of my weakness.”

“Or confiding in a fellow spirit, someone between two worlds like me. Come on, Argus. You were a friend to me before you died. What caused you to forget that?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Filch shrugged. “Maybe it was the part where the staircase shifted and made me trip over the railing, so that hitting the floor knocked that memory out of my head, along with everything else. Ooh, I bet if I had been a Wizard I would have been safe – ”

“Not likely,” said Jocasta. “There’s not many spells a wizard could use to save themselves from that fate.”

“I mean someone would have bothered to catch me.”

“Alright, that’s a fair point.”

“No it isn’t,” said Blaise. “This happened at the small hours of the morning.”

“And I was cleaning at the small hours of the morning because nobody bothered to clean up their own messes around here when I could do it.”

“That’s a fair point.”

“Wait,” said Violet. “I tripped off the stairs once. They’re supposed to have spells to catch people. How did they miss you?”

“Judging by my family manor,” said Jocasta, “they don’t work on Muggles.”

An awkward silence hung in the air.

“Anyway,” said Filch, “this is your story, Blaise. Get on with it.”

“Ahem. Right. Well. I started hanging around Argus here like I said. He didn’t exactly understand, at first, and kept shooing me out of his office. Thought I was trying to steal things. But then I kept acting out specifically to get detentions with Filch. Pushing people down flights of stairs and attacking the portraits and writing stuff on the walls. And so I’d get detentions with him, and he’d have me polish all the trophies, or clean Slobber-worm mucus down in the dungeons, or something nasty. And I had the chance to speak with him.

“And I asked him, what’s it like being a Squib, and he said it was like going to a birthday party and everyone gets the guest prizes except you, and then everyone makes fun of you for it, and isn’t it nice that old Dumbledore gave him this job so he could get his revenge on the children of the people who were nasty to him.

“Argus here has never been a nice man. It’s hard to be nice when you’ve been kicked around like that. But he didn’t kick me around, or do anything magical to me, and I thought, well, that’s better than naught. And eventually, he did let me hang around his office. Taught me how to do things the non-magical way. And he told me, sometimes, of what people used to do to him. Things like – well. He enjoys describing them and I don’t.

“So for a few years we were kindred spirits, of a kind, and then…I guess we weren’t. Professor McGonagall finally asked to speak with me, and made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that she was certain I had far more potential than I was letting on, and that she wasn't going to let me fail that easily. So she dragged me into a more conventional incompetence, and I was able to do basic magic, enough to barely pass the O.W.L.s."

Argus snorted. "Like I said. You became a good little Wizard after all."

"I had to," said Blaise, "if I was going to be able to see you. I had to stick around at this school. And you must remember that I never once did magic when I was in your office. Even in later years.”

“Yeah, yeah. Right. Fair enough.”

“And you don’t have to be a Wizard to appreciate dragons, do you? Maybe if you’d lived you could have flown with me, that first time.”

“I’m not crazy,” said Filch. “You are. To approach dragons like that so easily.”

“Well someone had to,” said Blaise. “Someone had to give them a chance. I'm sure the Wizarding World will say the same of Sparrow's approach to muggles. Better to communicate than to keep mum, eh? I learned that lesson eventually. Took a while to convince Charlie Weasley, though."

"Wait," said Jocasta. "How could you have any contact with Charlie Weasley if you're shut up in here?"

"Didn't say I was!" said Blaise. They pointed upwards. "As a matter of fact, I'm not usually here. I'm usually on the back of a dragon, keeping watch over the land by night. Muggles don't see the nastier beasties coming, but we do. So. I am constantly violating the statute of secrecy, for the sake of the poor sods who think it's safe to travel after sunset."

"And causing the Ministry of Magic to go around Obliviating muggles," said Sparrow.

Blaise looked sheepish. "Yes…it is not a perfect situation. I am not responsible for the actions of the Ministry, but I am responsible for how I provoke them. I wonder if I could overload their memory-charm workload by getting Magnus up there to fly low over London? Ah, but who knows how that would shake out. We're trying to be delicate here."

"We?" said Jocasta.

"I thought I made it clear I was on board with ending the Statute of Secrecy?"

"Well yes, but – that's not all we're doing."

Blaise sighed. "Look. What I see of the world from the back of a dragon is pitiful and empty. Villages burned, craters and storm-tossed sea coasts where cities once lived, muggles clinging to hillsides and huddled behind strong walls. I've been told that rain came gentle, once upon a time, and there were far more creatures in the world than there are now. The fact that Wizards apparently didn't bother to lend their skills to saving the world – "

"We tried," said Violet. "It was enough of a job to save what cities we could."

"You sound like you were there," said Blaise.

"Well no, but –"

"But you have your own loyalty," said Blaise. "For me, when I am high in the sky, I see the whole world, and wonder why the part of it that thrives now refuses to offer such gifts to the dying remainder."

Professor Longbottom coughed.

"You have something to say, Neville?"

"There is the seed vault," said Longbottom.

"Which you have not yet distributed." Blaise looked disdainful. "Even as I counsel caution I would consider such reluctance an excess of caution."

"We're trying to work out the details!" said Longbottom. "But as for distributing other gifts, I would call that fear and arrogance. The Ministry has its internal culture, and it's always been about keeping muggles and Wizards separate. So there's little interest there."

"Sure," said Blaise, "but everywhere else? What of the continent? I see no generosity from those Wizards either."

"Something to do with galleons being the Wizarding world's reserve currency," said Longbottom. "I don't quite understand it myself."

"Oh wonderful," said Sparrow. "If I fling my galleon into the fire, will it melt?"

"You would need a hotter furnace," said Jocasta. "Jill, open your mouth please?"

"I do not like the taste of gold," said Jill.

"I don't think you can actually melt galleons," said Violet. "They're made by goblins, after all."

"I'll invent a better furnace," said Cormac.

"And then you will deal with the wrath of goblins," said Blaise. "Not worth it, trust me." They sat back down. "Now I have told all the tale I would tell, I leave the floor to Argus, who I believe has his own tale to tell?"

Filch shrugged. “If a bunch of Wizards want to hear it.”

“You said you were saving it for later,” said Cormac.

“How much later?” said Filch. “I didn’t say that, did I? But if you look so eager, I’ll tell you.

“I told you about being torn apart. Bit of a joke, there. Nobody’s done that to a Squib in ages and ages, as far as I know. But Dumbledore told me that when he was a lad, Wizards would sometimes kill their Squib kids if they didn't want to lock them up.”

Cormac gasped.

“Don’t be surprised, boy. We’re talking purebloods here. Devoted to Wizardry. Couldn’t handle having a non-magical member of the family. It is what it is.”

“Well it shouldn’t be,” said Cormac. “And it isn’t where I come from!”

“It is where I come from,” said Professor Longbottom. “And I come from Wizarding Britain. The Longbottoms are a pureblood family. So, when it took me too long to get my magic going, the family thought I was a squib.”

“Right,” said Argus. “And they said they dangled you headfirst out the window because they thought it would scare your magic into working.”

“Well it did, didn’t it? Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

Argus grunted. “I keep telling you not to make excuses for them.”

“And I keep telling you that’s not a thought I want to entertain.”

“Got to confront it sometime eh? Think about the pureblood way of thinking. The reason why you know so many ghosts.”

Blaise leapt up. “ARGUS!”

That caught the ghostly caretaker’s attention.

Blaise had a fire in their eyes. “You are in the middle of my domain. If I say the walls are not yours to pass through, then they are not. Leave Mr. Longbottom be and continue your story.”

“Right, right. Families murderin’ their squibs. For what it’s worth…by the time I was a lad it had been nearly a hundred years since that sort of thing was common. Some Squib git had wrote a book about his life and the Wizards had read it and cried, and said they would treat Squibs nicer.

“Mother tended to thrash me with a belt when I couldn’t do magic on her command. Father hexed me with itching and tripped me up with invisible rope. Lovely childhood. No Hogwarts, of course. My siblings went, I didn’t. I could pass through the platform at 9 ¾, but the closest I would have ever come to attending would have been the sorting hat telling me no. I could pass into Diagon Alley, but what reason would I have to even go there?

“19th May 1968 was the only time before or since that I have been in Diagon Alley. There was a march. A march of Squibs. Must have been all of them in the Wizarding world, at least all the ones who bothered to join that world. I was young, and there was some fire in me. When someone told me that a bunch of Squibs, of all things, were marching, well I had to see what was going on.

“And what a sight it was. Signs like “we have rights” and “Squibs are people too.” I hadn’t thought that was true. Mother had always told me I was a pathetic little disappointment. Imagine having someone reach out their hand to me and tell me that I was something after all.

“Imagine being torn away from taking that hand, by a pure-blood wizard. Aye, the pureblood supremacists were hot in those years, full of more fire than me, and what dragons they were, to breathe their fire on everyone. The riot was all up and down Diagon Alley. The damages were in the hundreds of thousands of galleons and there were at least three deaths. All Squibs. They couldn’t defend themselves, I suppose.

“I’m told that Borgin & Burke’s was untouched. Everywhere else, creatures had been released from cages, books were scattered, windows were shattered, magical fires raged. And who was prosecuted for it? Only the folks who had organized the march. As for the Wizards who had rioted, well. Somehow the aurors never caught a single one of them.

“Imagine going through all that, then having Wise Old Dumbledore The Great offer you a job. At Hogwarts. To poor little Argus from before the riot, it would have been the dream come true. To poor old Filch from after the riot, it felt like a condescending consolation prize. I took it. I had nothing else to look forward to. Had quite a bit of fun, in the first years, doing as I pleased to the nasty little Wizard children. Didn’t care much about who got the worst of it, they were all the same.

“And I passed that way for many years. I didn’t care about the Wizarding War. It was Wizards kicking each other around. Not my problem. Maybe having fewer of their children around would mean I had to clean less. And that Potter boy, the first one, he caused me no end of trouble with his friends. My greatest triumph was when I got that damned Marauder’s Map from them.

“Didn’t care a whit for the second Potter boy either. Ooh, la-dee-da, he accidentally killed the dark Lord. Pfeh. He didn’t do a thing for it, did he? Just sat there and Voldemort slipped up and killed himself. Maybe the old goat tripped on the carpet and pointed his wand at himself while he cast the curse. Avada-ka- _whoops_.

“Didn’t care much about the second Wizarding War, either. Same thing as the first. A war between Wizards. Not my problem. Except when they went after the damned school, my school. My home. That meant something to me. And they smashed quite a bit of the stonework. Caused me no end of cleanup.

“And then things quieted down again, until, I guess, the Muggle world quietly crumbled while I wasn’t paying attention. Heh. Maybe it’s good to be a squib after all. I had a place to retreat to and they didn’t. And I lived in the usual way at Hogwarts, and the next generation of Potter’s children and Weasley children caused the same trouble as ever, and I figured that would be my life from then on.

“And then this little git –" Argus gestured to Blaise – "starts hanging around my office, asking me all kinds of questions I didn’t want to answer. Wormed their way into my good graces, they did. It’s like Blaise says. I liked to see that this little Wizard kid DIDN’T want to take advantage of what magic could offer. A Hogwarts student refusing magic, that was new. A Hogwarts student smashing things up specifically to see me, that was strange. What would a little Wizard child want with a 90-year-old Squib? To feel safe? Someone felt safe around _me_? I’d spent an entire career building up a reputation and here was this little twerp ignoring it. Well, fine. We got along. Blaise learned how to sweep a floor without magic and I had someone to talk to for once.

“I didn’t choose to stick around on earth because of them. I’m still around because I only learned on my dying day that there was something called the Society for the Protection of Squibs. I was furious. Where had they been all my life? Had I missed them because I was hanging around Hogwarts? Why had Dumbledore never told me about them? Everything I thought I knew about Hogwarts was turned upside down.

“So here I am, because I didn't want to get on the damn train platform when I could stick around and complain. Still nice to talk to Blaise, though, when they’re available.”

"Train platform?" said Sparrow.

"You'll understand when you're older," said Argus.

Sparrow's lips thinned, but she said nothing.

"As for all this Statute of Secrecy Business," said Argus, "I hardly care one way or another. If Blaise is in on it, I guess I won't stand in the way. But if I'm dead and the world is dead, well, maybe I like it being more quiet around here. I remember when it was full of birdsong. I hated being woken up by birds. I hated shoveling snow. I hated mopping up the floors after people tracked mud in. I guess you all have less trouble sweeping dust out now, eh?"

"But what about complaining?" said Jocasta. "If everyone dies, you might not have anyone to growl at besides ghosts."

"Good enough for me," said Argus. "I told you I won't stand in the way. That's all."

"Good enough for me!" said Blaise. "Now, I think we've heard every story willing to be told, haven't we? Ah, but there remains one." They rose, and passed through the fire. Filch snorted in derision, but Blaise paid no heed as they took Sparrow’s hand and said, “Your story. The one you promised. It is your turn to tell, young one, if you would. Will you?”

Sparrow shuddered. “I suppose this is a better place than any. Among friends, protected by dragons. Very well then, you shall hear of why I have been, so far, nothing but the Shield Maiden, the Barrier Witch, the poor kind girl who could never harm anyone.”

Sparrow rose, and let the glow of the flames dance over her face for a few seconds, before she spoke. “I will tell you this first: the Statute of Secrecy is already a complete joke. Even if Cormac had not described an entire continent of people who treat it as such, even if Violet had not made it clear that muggles whisper tales of strange beasts to each other, I would believe that the whole thing was falling apart. But now I know for certain. From what I have seen, ignorance isn't saving anyone at all."

"Right," said Jocasta. "Apparently Blaise is doing all the work."

"Well they could have been there six years ago!" shouted Sparrow. "Someone could have been there! But no, it was just me."

"So what happened?" said Cormac.

"One of my friends died," said Sparrow. "And the rest of us might also have been killed, But I was there, and magic was there with me. That made the difference."

"You had a wand at that age?" said Jocasta.

Sparrow shook her head.

"Then what exactly – "

"Let me back up a bit," said Sparrow. "Show of hands, who here has been personally victimized by the Statute of Secrecy?"

Cormac, Violet, Blaise, Miranda, and Sparrow raised their hands.

"You too?" said Cormac.

"As well as Miranda," said Sparrow. "I really do want to hear that story."

Miranda shook her head. "I've said too much already. What exactly happened with you?"

"Well," said Sparrow, "I'll back up a bit further – "

"You're going to back up right off the bridge," said Jocasta.

"This is important context! I have always wondered if the whole incident was targeting me or not."

"Why would anyone want to target sweet little you?" said Jocasta.

"Because I'm black?"

Jocasta blinked.

"And that raises the ire of some people because of complex political and economic reasons relating to ethnic and pseudo-ethnic tension?"

Jocasta was still blinking.

Sparrow sighed. "The concept is to certain muggles what squibs and muggleborns are to Wizards. Sort of."

"Ohhhhhhh," said Jocasta. "You could have just mentioned prejudice straight away."

"Bit more complicated than that," said Miranda and Cormac at the same time.

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "You know more than you let on, white boy. But what do you know about it?"

"I know where my scars come from," said Cormac. "I know what aristocrats are like because I know what the folks from Goose Island are like. That's all."

"More complicated than that," said Violet.

"And what do _you_ know about it?" said Miranda.

"I know that the Western Hemisphere has a history," said Violet, "and that it is much to do with muggle concepts of race, over the past five hundred years. Beyond that, well, history books around here say little of that land, except to scoff at how it threw off the empires of the east. What do _you_ know about it, then?"

"Long story," said Miranda. "But this is Sparrow's floor right now."

"Right," said Sparrow. "However things play out elsewhere, I've always lived an easy life. My neighborhood's a swank place in comparison to the stilt houses and I never felt like I was living on the knife's edge. Mother and Father are both good at making connections, I guess. So – when I think about what happened, well – I used to think I was targeted on account of race, but now I don't know."

"What exactly happened?" said Jill.

"What happened," said Sparrow, "is that the Ministry stole my friends from me."

Silence lay about the room.

"They're still alive," said Sparrow. "All but one, I mean."

Jill's eyes were glowing red. "Do we have to go and blast a few doors down, then?"

"No!" said Sparrow. "No, nobody got kidnapped. I kind of wish they had been, or…something. Some kind of peril. Just so I could go and be a hero for them, and prove that I still loved them, and that I wasn't crazy. But that's a foolish dream anyway. No, what happened was worse.

"It started with a single finger bone. When I was nine years old, I found it in a little paper box in my dresser drawer. I couldn't quite figure out how it had got there, and nobody in my family did either. I put it back in the box because I couldn't figure out what to do with it.

"But then I thought, maybe its former owner deserved a funeral of some kind. Maybe I ought to bury the bone somewhere. And that's when my head started to feel funny all the time, like it did when I had déjà vu. Except déjà vu goes away in a few moments, and this didn't. It kept around. I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd thought of burying the thing a while ago…when I found it in someone's bedroom…but whose bedroom? And why was I shying away from open windows?"

Cormac's eyes began to glow orange.

"Something the matter?" said Sparrow.

"I can tell where you're going with this story," said Cormac. "But keep going."

"Right," said Sparrow. "Well, my head started to hurt a lot, and my parents thought it would help me if I could get some fresh night air by leaving the windows open – they couldn't understand why I kept closing my windows, and I didn't either. But when I showed them the finger bone, after a while they started to get the same headaches. I started to worry that the damn thing was radioactive."

"Radiowhat?" said Jocasta.

"Muggle science," said Miranda. "A kind of invisible death ray."

"Usually invisible," said Sparrow. "Anyway, while my parents were having headaches, I had gotten over them, and now I was on to something worse – I kept having memories creep up that I was sure were wrong. They were vague, at first. Just the idea of a small finger bone, a shadow slithering towards me, and the idea of a glowing translucent shield getting in its way – I couldn't figure why I would have come up with any of those concepts. Neither one of them ever came up in the stories Mother told me, nor in anything Bobby or Marina or Hannah ever invented. Or Joey. Joey who? Why was that name in my head?

"And then the memories got stronger, and I was sure that at some point, a shadow _had_ been slithering towards me, that it had come in through an open window, and all the memories of the past few months were feeling more fake than the stuff that was getting into my head, and I started to think I was going nuts.

"But when I confided in my parents, Mother and Father both said that they were having similar memories crop up – "

At this, Sparrow heard something behind her, and she whirled around to see the white dragon, both of its eyes open, staring at her. A deep rumble emanated from its throat.

"Am I about to get roasted?" said Sparrow.

Jill glared at the dragon. The dragon glared at Jill, then rolled their eyes.

"Worry not," said Blaise. "Abrax is growling for you, not at you. They have a very good idea of what happened with that shadow."

"Wait," said Violet, "a creeping shadow? Was it – "

"I'm getting to that!" shouted Sparrow. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, turned back to the fire, and continued. "Mother told me that she and Father had heard a very strange story from me, months ago. That I had been at a slumber party with all my friends, and we had all left the windows open for the sake of the cool night air, even though Marina's parents told us not to. They said that I had been woken in the middle of the night by someone's muffled cries for help, only to waken fully and see a black patch of night slithering off the place where Joey had lain upon the floor. Joey had disappeared.

"And in the moonlight there had been a curious little white shape, something that had taken me a second to register. As soon as I had realized it was a finger bone, I had screamed, and then everyone else was awake, and there was a shadow sliding over Bobby's hand…he managed to shake the thing off, we all crowded into the moonlight, and then we could see a patch of shadow slithering towards us.

"So I had screamed again, and that time, some kind of glowing yellow glass had appeared between Bobby and the shadow, and the thing had crept around us, out of the window and disappeared.

"That was the story I had told my parents. And when they told it back to me, it clicked into place, that such a thing had actually happened. But how had any of us forgot? What had I actually been doing for the past few months? Why did I have fake memories in my head?"

"You were Obliviated," said Cormac, in a growl low enough to rival the dragon.

"I understand that now," said Sparrow. "But I didn't know then. I had no way of knowing. I couldn't understand why none of my other friends remembered what my family remembered. I couldn't understand why they wouldn't close their windows at night. They didn't understand why I was playing games with them. They started to speak as though I were insane. Even Bobby. They told me there was no Joey in this neighborhood.

"The whole situation threatened to make me believe I really was nuts. But if this was all a joke, I couldn't understand why my parents were in on it. And they weren't treating it like a joke. They were trying to get the rest of the neighborhood to understand what had happened. But nobody believed them, nobody wanted to close their windows at night. Not even Joey's parents, who didn't remember Joey either.

"So basically the entire neighborhood, friends and acquaintances all, started to shun my family. They still do. They call us the Mumbo-Jumbo Joneses. I lost all my friends and I couldn't understand why.

"But oh, when the shield came back, one rainy day. When I couldn't deny it, when nobody around me could deny it. Ah, well. Then the nice folks from the Ministry showed up, and explained Memory Charms to me, and how they would have to Obliviate the entire neighborhood. Again. _Then_ it all fell into place."

"I'm half-tempted to make the Ministry of Magic fall into place right now," said Jill.

Sparrow turned to Jill, whose eyes were glowing red. "I sometimes wish I had your skill and temperament."

"Terrible wish," said Jill.

"Perhaps," said Sparrow. "I might have had a bit of fun vaporizing that jackass right there and then. Ah, but that was the same moment I swore to take a different path, and raise my shield for all in peril, friend and foe alike. I knew that if things like that shadow were out there, I could never let anyone come to harm from them. I would never let anyone come to harm on my watch. Not again."

"That is a heavy oath to swear," said Blaise, "especially for one so young."

"I was hasty," said Sparrow. "I was foolish. But, an oath is an oath. I swore it on my soul."

Blaise's eyes grew wide. "Of all the things you could have sworn on?"

"I didn't have a bible," said Sparrow. "Nor a ring. Like I said, it was a hasty decision. And, you might have noticed, I was not receiving anything like emotional support from anyone besides my parents. It was quite a fraught moment."

"Let me guess," said Jocasta. "You made your oath and then thunder rumbled."

"That is correct," said Sparrow.

"I was joking!"

"I wasn't," said Sparrow. "And the sky wasn't either, apparently."

"But what was it?" said Jill. "What was this slithering shadow?"

"I have a pretty good idea," said Cormac.

"Then tell," said Jill.

"No," said Cormac. "I have crossed that boundary once, and I will not cross it again. It is Sparrow's to explain, or not. It is something that can scare _her_. It is something that can scare _dragons_. If we don't want to talk about exactly what it is, that's fine by me."

"I'm trying to get there," said Sparrow. "It's just…I mean, it's not like I ever really saw it happen, it's not like anyone does, right? Until it's too late. But even if I never knew what that shadow was, I knew that it had gotten Joey. And I got the feeling that the little bone was all anyone would find him. So – I got more frantic, then, and tried to get everyone to understand that their kids were in danger, and – and my friends started to talk about shutting me up in a mental asylum. And so did everyone else.

"But I wasn't going to give up that easy. I had the ability to look out for people now, even if they didn't like it. So I started jumping into situations where someone was about to get hurt, and hen I screamed, that would pretty reliably raise the shield –

"And then the Ministry would be on my case again, Obliviating everyone in the area. They got fed up enough to threaten taking my memory again too.

"Well. The burned hand teaches best, I guess. I couldn't talk to my friends _or_ protect them. They were lost to me. I have never spoken to them since. It is not as though anyone in my neighborhood has disappeared mysteriously, or anything, but…only a matter of time, perhaps.

"And considering Cormac's story…well. I have certainly kept my ears perked for stories of mysterious disappearances elsewhere, and heard of a fair few indeed, among the ramshackle houses on the raised platforms, where they haven't enough to build their houses tightly, to make doors that fit, oh, _those_ people are sleeping vulnerable. And what am I supposed to do then? Stand guard every night? I tried. I couldn't keep it up. Maybe I already broke my oath long ago."

"You took far too much upon yourself," said Professor Longbottom. "At far too early an age. No one would blame you for retreating from that task. I am not blaming you. I am – forgive me, I know this is a sensitive topic, but if you have been aware of such mysterious disappearances in London, why didn't you say anything about them earlier?"

"Because I wasn't certain about the cause," said Sparrow. "I didn't really have the chance to put two and two together for certain until Cormac's remark about L – about – damn it.” Sparrow had begun to shiver again. “I’m not sure I can continue here. I’m – I’m – I’m sorry I just – ”

Jill rose to stand beside Sparrow, and hugged her close, the glow in her eyes finally fading. In turn Jocasta put her arms around the both of them. After a few seconds, Sparrow’s breathing slowed.

The three girls separated and sat back down, staying close together. Violet and Cormac exchanged glances, then moved around the fire to sit beside them. In turn Miranda rose from her seat, and sat down on the stone, perpendicular to the log. Blaise rose from their seat, and sat down upon the stone at the log’s other end, facing Miranda.

Abrax uncoiled, and slithered over to the now-concentrated gathering, and lay behind the log, encircling everyone else with their tail.

Filch stayed here he was, until he sighed a ghostly sigh and came to float by the fire, a foot outside of the circle of the dragon’s tail. Professor Longbottom did the same on the opposite side of the circle.

“Do you wish to continue?” said Cormac.

Sparrow took a deep breath. “I think I can.”

“What is it then?” said Jocasta. “What is this word you couldn’t name?”

“The word is Lethifolds!” said Sparrow. “Lethifolds! Lethifolds! There. I said it.”

“Oh!” said Jocasta. “Those horrible things?”

“Horrible is a paltry word to describe them,” said Blaise. “Monstrous. Evil. Pure evil. Evil distilled. The most dangerous and deadly creature in the world, if you are caught off-guard.”

Abrax began to growl again.

“Oh come on,” said Violet. “Cone snails are more deadly by far.”

“Those don’t hunt humans,” said Blaise. “And you can smash a cone snail with a hammer. These…things…are living nightmares. Do you know, I don’t think old Voldemort himself tried to use them. If even he thought they were too dangerous to handle…”

“Voldemort never bothered to look outside of Europe,” said Sparrow. “Hidebound old fool like so many Wizards. His chief problem, I suppose. Probably the reason he got the Second Wizarding War going. Couldn’t let go of the pureblood business. But – I cannot call these creatures pure evil.”

Blaise looked shocked. “What on earth do you mean?”

“I mean they’re wild animals. Right? Technically innocent. I can hate them, sure, but call them pure evil? That’s a human concept.”

“Mostly,” said Violet. “The higher orders of apes had rudimentary concepts of justice. But if Lethifolds are nothing more than living blankets, they wouldn’t have enough brain to know what right and wrong were.”

The dragon was growling again. Louder this time.

“But we don’t know that,” said Cormac. “These are magical creatures. Maybe they have some sort of brain nobody can see. Or maybe they’re not wild animals at all. Maybe they’re…something else. Nobody knows. Nobody can catch them. There’s only two accounts we have from survivors and the only thing they could have done was cast a Patronus and run. We can’t know if they think, if they scheme…they’re so rare as to be nearly legendary. How do you judge something nearly nobody has ever seen?”

The dragon was growling louder still.

“Abrax,” said Blaise. “Please.”

“Does the dragon know something?” said Miranda. “Spill.”

“Plenty,” said Blaise. “And this discussion is nearly as distressing to them as it is to Sparrow, so let us please leave off speculating.”

“I would note one more thing,” said Violet. She turned to meet the dragon’s gaze. “If I may.”

Sparrow turned her head to see Abrax, their teeth slightly bared, eyes wide, holding Violet's gaze. The dragon subsided with an annoyed snort, and nodded their assent.

“Thank you.” Violet turned back to address Cormac. “There are only two written accounts from survivors. We don’t know how many unwritten accounts there might be, beyond Sparrow's. Also there are only two written survival accounts, _in English._ Perhaps the rest are all written in languages from Southeast Asia, and we’ve never bothered to check."

"We have one true account around here," said Jocasta. "Hagrid's seen them. He told me in passing that he’d seen a Lethifold twice in the – Oh my God.” Jocasta’s eyes grew wide. She met Sparrow’s gaze with as much concern as Abrax had, if not more. “I sent you into their very domain.”

“It’s alright,” said Sparrow. “I mean it’s alright now.”

“Is it? After all you’ve been through, sending you into a place where you might have met your worst fear – and even if you never did you had to be thinking about it night and day – I can’t blame you for what you did at the dueling club. I sent you into the realm of your worst enemy. Your real worst enemy. Sparrow, I am so sorry.” She took Sparrow’s hands in hers. “I must have caused you greater terror than anyone besides a loathsome fiend could deserve.”

“I will admit,” said Sparrow, “That I harbored some resentment for you, for that. Mostly it was satisfied by my revenge. But you were only one part in a chain of errors. It was Hagrid’s idea to take me into the wild, and my decision to follow.” She laid a hand on Jocasta’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself more than I blame him or me. He didn’t know about my terror, nor did you. Neither of you could have known. It was not a story I could ever have told anyone, until here, until now.” Sparrow draped one arm over Jocasta’s shoulder and put an arm around Jill’s waist. “With all of you around me. So it was difficult to tell anyone just where my boundaries were, until they were crossed – Cormac ran into that and I got snappy.” She nodded to Cormac. “Sorry about that, old bean.”

“Young bean. But I’m the one who saw the line in front of my eyes and crossed it. I have some fault here.” His eyes stopped glowing.

“Perhaps. Perhaps. And yet it was fortunate that you explained Lethi – Lethifolds – to me. Reluctant as I am to admit it. That was the key to a door I thought had been shut. It was a bridge to that old mystery. I looked up Lethifolds and, what do you know, a black blanket creature that devours people in the night. Normally they only live in the tropics. But, you know, most of the world is tropics now.

“And now you can see why I’m on about this Statute of Secrecy business, and why I am so protective. It all comes back to that one night. Because the muggles smudged up the world enough that Lethifolds could sneak around even here in Britain. Because the Statute of Secrecy did nothing to protect my friends, and left the job all to me. Because the law stole my friends from me, as effectively as the Lethifold might have done. So let the whole pile of junk disappear for all I care.”

Jill waved a hand at the fire, and it burned higher.

“Nice touch,” said Sparrow. “And an illustration of what led to the situation we’re in now. The world burned. Because of muggles, because we couldn’t help them, we couldn’t save them, we couldn’t protect them, because the Ministry didn’t want us to, because they thought the muggles still hated us. As I was prohibited from helping my friends, Wizards were not allowed to help anyone else. And even now the Ministry won’t let us act openly to undo the damage. We’re not allowed to make a difference.

“I suppose if you could distill my ambitions into one idea, it is the hope that we can make a difference. We cannot change the past, but we can change the future, if we dare.” She rose from her seat, and stepped over Abrax’s tail to stand close before the fire.

“And do you dare?” said the Professor.

“Do _we_ dare. But that is up to each of us here. I will not ask any of you to follow, if you feel it is beyond you, or if you feel that it is unjust. I would only ask that if you feel it is unjust, you would stand up for what you think is right, and oppose me with all of your will and all of your might. I would not have anyone cower before me nor accept an injustice for the sake of friendship. But I gather that you are all in on this…or that you will not oppose it. Am I correct?"

“I’m with you to the end of all things,” said Jill.

“I can hardly resist,” said Jocasta.

“There are wondrous opportunities here,” said Violet.

“I would relish the chance to live in a wider world once more,” said Cormac.

“I will render what aid I can,” said Blaise. “Though my tasks keep me ever busy. Argus? What about you?”

“Heh.” Filch had his arms crossed. “Dangerous. Heroic. But my answer has not changed. I’ll not stand in the way. That’s all.”

“And Mr. Longbottom?”

The Professor looked grim. “I have come to a better understanding of your griefs,” he said. “And I do not think it is my right to stand in your way. If I had ever entertained that thought it vanished when Sparrow described what the Ministry did to her friends. But as much as I have appreciated that you informed me of your actions, as much as I have felt honored to be included in tonight’s proceedings, I think it would be safer for me to avoid getting too involved. I have my own gardens to tend. I am sorry.”

“I don’t hold it against you,” said Sparrow. “Thank you for being here, and for listening.”

“We’re missing one,” said Blaise. “Miranda?”

Miranda was not meeting anyone’s gaze, but staring at the fire. “Will you give me time to decide?”

“All the time you need,” said Sparrow. “Just…whatever you decide, please be willing to tell me.”

“I can do that.”

“Alright then.” Sparrow stood as tall and straight as a slip of a fourteen-year-old girl could stand, facing the flames once more. “The fire grows low, and dire deeds arise. Blaise?” She turned to meet the eager gaze of the dragon keeper. “It is time.”

Blaise stood, and, moving behind the log, whispered into Abrax’s ear. They opened their eyes, grinned, and looked up. The dragons overhead began to slither out of the windows, one by one.

“Who can be blamed for this situation?” said Sparrow, as she met the worried gazes of her friends. “Me? The Ministry? Jocasta? Violet? I offer up Jill, if only because she commanded me to be considerate of other people, thus preventing me from merely attempting to interfere with the existence of memory charms. No, if we wish all people to survive our ambitions, we must be delicate, as I said. So. I have, per Jocasta’s suggestion, chosen the hard road. To do good is more difficult than evil. It is ever thus. Come, then, and let us embark.”

She left the fire, then, and opened the door, where the cold rain down came down. She looked back at her friends. “If you are all with me in spirit, be with me in body.”

“I could do that all the time,” said Jocasta.

“Read the room,” said Jill.

“She walked right into it!”

“And we’re walking right into the rain,” said Violet. “How’s this supposed to work? Where’s the full moon?”

“I haven’t given the signal yet,” said Blaise. “You must go outside first. Go on.”

With a fair bit of grumbling, the children followed Sparrow out into the cold rain. Jill held Sparrow's hand in a firm grip, not hard enough to be painful but strong enough to make it clear she was not letting go.

When everyone was out of the tower, Blaise whistled sharply. For a moment, nothing happened. But then Sparrow saw it – a ray of moonlight shining down through the clouds, and something on the edge of that gap, keeping on the edge as it widened – something with great wings.

And as Sparrow watched, many gaps appeared, and began to swirl together, as the blank night above became a spinning vortex of cloud, and in the midst of it all, there were dragons, dragons in the thousands, flying in rings within rings, beating the clouds with their wings, wafting away the dark blank night bit by bit, until there was a great hole in the clouds. The moon’s silver light was reflected in the water that lay upon the walkway, and on the land, up to the edge of the higher hills.

For a moment everyone stood there in silence, taking in the sight of the last of the rain as it twinkled on its way down.

"Remind me," said Jocasta, "what was that you said about making a display impossible to ignore?"

"And yet there's no muggles around," said Blaise. "Pity. And I might never get the dragons to be so perfectly coordinated again! Nor so numerous! I didn't ask for _all_ of them to be out here, but, here they are."

"I'd say that's their endorsement of Sparrow," said Cormac.

"Oh great," said Sparrow. "It looks like the world is starting to revolve around me."

"That's what this could turn into if you're not careful," said Blaise.

"How do I avoid it?"

"Know when to let someone else take the helm," said Professor Longbottom. "Call yourself a captain and not a king. You've gained a crew tonight, that's for sure. It's the crew that matters, and where you're all going, and how you get there. Not one of you matters any more, or any less, than any other."

Jocasta was grinning from ear to ear.

"What is it?" said Sparrow.

"Nothing, Captain Jones, nothing at all."

"Ohhhhh no. You are _not_ calling me Captain Jones."

"Yes Admiral."

"No!"

"But what do we call the ship?" said Cormac.

"Nothing!" said Sparrow.

"I have an idea," said Violet. "How about the _Lark Ascending?_ "

"Doesn't sound piratey enough," said Jill. "How about the _Lark Arising?_ "

"That's piratey?"

"Arrrrrr."

" _Lark Rising_ ", said Cormac.

"Fine," said Sparrow. "Fine. We set sail with the tide." She took the mandrake leaf from Miranda, and stepped to the edge of the walkway, turning towards her friends for dramatic effect. “This will be a long journey,” she said, “full of many storms. It may take years. Decades, even. But, we can only reach the end if we dare the beginning. Like so.” She held the mandrake leaf aloft to the moon.

“Wait!” said Jocasta. She ran up to Sparrow. “It will be an entire month that I am missing the taste of your sweet lips, my dear. Let me have one more kiss before I am forbidden.”

“How could I forget,” said Sparrow. “And how could I forbid, in such circumstances? Come, then.”

The two girls kissed, then, lingering long enough that Sparrow began to worry the moon would set by the time they were done.

But Jocasta at last let go, and said, "There! I shall be looking forward to that again." She took a step back and stood beside Cormac.

Sparrow and Jill exchanged glances. Sparrow tapped her lips twice.

Jill shook her head.

Sparrow gave Jill her best Puppy-Dog Eyes. But to no avail. Jill tapped her on the cheek once. Sparrow sighed, and nodded.

The kiss that Jill left her, there, made her feel warm all over. Then Jill stepped back, and met Jocasta's eyes, their gaze saying as much between them as what had passed between Jill and Sparrow.

Cormac coughed. He was looking hopeful, as was Violet beside him.

Sparrow raised an eyebrow.

Cormac rolled his eyes, and tapped Sparrow on the cheek once.

Sparrow nodded.

Cormac gave her a peck on the cheek, followed by Violet.

"Hell of a way to join a pirate crew," said Blaise.

"But I haven't joined the crew yet," said Sparrow. She gave all of her friends a little peck on the cheek. "There, now I have. And now we must begin."

Sparrow held the leaf up to the light again. “Here’s to the first step,” she said. She cast a sticking charm on the leaf. Then she placed it in her mouth, under her tongue.

And nearly gagged. The taste was bitter, foul. The sticking charm prickled. No wonder it was a challenge to keep it there for a month. Perhaps her tastebuds would become numb at some point, but until then she had something in her mouth that she didn’t want to, and she had to fight the urge to spit it out immediately.

But. She was Sparrow Jones, and no little thing like a bitter leaf was going to conquer her, by thunder. She held the leaf in place until the sticking charm took full effect and the prickles faded.

Miranda finally moved forward. She peered at Sparrow, whose expression was, at the moment, easy to read. “I see,” she said. “You are determined after all. You have chosen to set out on this voyage, and I know you will follow the path to its end, whatever end that may be, for you are willing to endure bitterness and pain in pursuit of your goal."

"Definitely," said Sparrow through gritted teeth.

"My fears for this situation, for your execution of your grand designs, were that you would shoulder burdens onto others, or run at the first hint of trouble, like so many pathetic cowards who raise armies of eager young people, and then abandon them, just to save their loathsome hides. Or that you would be the sort of person who makes lots of suggestions for other people and then fails to live that advice yourself, like some armchair general. But, here you are, leading from the front. Standing on the deck with the rest, though it be under heavy fire. You will not abandon anyone on the journey, nor guide them into anything you yourself cannot handle. Although you might guide them into something you believe you can survive, only to be proven wrong. Hm. Therein lies the real problem. You are in this situation precisely because you are so bold.”

She sighed, and looked up at the moon, at the dragons wheeling in the sky. For a few seconds she appeared to be lost in the sight. Then she turned her gaze to Jocasta, who seemed to be vibrating with anticipation; to Jill, whose steely expression was matched only by Sparrow’s; to Cormac, whose expression of fascinated curiosity was matched only by Violet’s.

She turned her head towards the Professor, who nodded.

“I had hoped to stay out of this business,” said Miranda. “But you know what? Here." She took Sparrow's hand, and kissed it lightly. "I'm in. Where are we headed, Captain?"

Sparrow turned and pointed to the stars.

**END OF PART 2**

**Author's Note:**

> Lethifolds are an odd creation of Rowling's. They are the most terrifying creature she has ever thought of, yet so terrifying that they could not actually appear in the center of a series of children's literature. They are forced to creep about the edges of her Wizarding World.
> 
> And yet, by the same token, they are easily vanquished, for they appear to have the same vulnerabilities as dementors, being something akin to a more corporeal dementor. Where dementors are embodiments of despair, lethifolds are embodiments of horror, as horror is characterizd by lack of hope and lack of agency. So as despair and horror are chased away by hope and joy, so dementors and lethifolds are chased away by the Patronus, which Harry Potter mastered in his fourth year, and thus obviated the threat of lethifolds before they had a chance to make their way into the story.
> 
> Sparrow has no such capability, as of yet, and I have fewer limitations upon this story than Rowling. So young Miss Jones will have to brace herself. The storm is brewing.


End file.
